


First in my affections

by Riga789



Series: First in my affections [2]
Category: Sanditon (TV 2019), Sanditon - Jane Austen
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, HEA, Regency, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-15
Updated: 2021-02-02
Packaged: 2021-02-28 23:27:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 55,121
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23155561
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Riga789/pseuds/Riga789
Summary: Charlotte and Sidney are now engaged. But as Sanditon’s fate hangs in the balance, so does theirs.Or, what happens after the events of “A midsummer night’s proposal”.
Relationships: Charlotte Heywood/Sidney Parker
Series: First in my affections [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1664683
Comments: 512
Kudos: 801





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> When I wrote [A midsummer night’s proposal](http://archiveofourown.org/works/22004089) , a few of you lovely readers here as well as on fanfiction.net asked if there was going to be a continuation to that story. Which, I’ll admit, took me a little by surprise because I honestly hadn’t thought of how the story would proceed with those developments; I just wanted to write a way out of *that* ending.
> 
> ... So here is my attempt at continuing along that line of events. Thank you for pushing me to do this — I’m having fun figuring out and planning and writing this story. I hope you like it as much as you did its prequel!

Sidney was _seething_ as he and his siblings made their way back to Trafalgar House after their visit to the burnt terrace the morning after the fire. Eighty thousand pounds. _Eighty thousand pounds_! Even being well cognizant of Tom’s carelessness, he found it hard to believe, to accept that his older brother had been so reckless. What idiocy had prompted him take such a perilous gamble as not insuring the building work?

From where were they to obtain so much money? How and from where had Tom managed to get so much money to sink into Sanditon in the first place? As Tom had said earlier, even their combined fortunes were but a drop in the ocean when compared to the magnitude of his debts.

And yet, the pressing matter that occupied Sidney’s mind foremost, the dread that had filled him the minute Tom revealed the extent of their dire straits, had to do with Charlotte.

She had made him the happiest man alive mere hours ago when she’d agreed to marry him. He who had been convinced that he was destined to remain alone forever, to never find love and be loved. He who had never imagined he’d ever feel such happiness, beyond his wildest dreams. And now, with such horrific financial ruin staring the Parkers in the face, he was obliged to give Charlotte the chance to back out of their engagement. She had a full and bright future ahead of her; she did not deserve to be shackled to a man who might well end up in penury. Her parents would never agree to such a match. And he could not call himself a gentleman if he didn’t allow her the chance to withdraw.

Just the mere thought of it was enough to drive Sidney to the brink of despair, threatening to bring him to his knees. In just a few short, turbulent weeks, he had fallen deeply, irrevocably in love with Charlotte. He didn’t think he could live — _survive_ — without her. 

He remembered Charlotte’s face when he told her he was in love with her, when he asked her to marry him. The hope that had bloomed in her eyes, the happiness in her smiles. Her emotions mirroring his, the evidence of it in her kiss. The thought of losing that, losing _her_ made him feel sick.

The thought of losing it all because of his brother’s staggering incompetence filled him with a rage beyond belief.

The Parkers arrived back at Trafalgar House and were let in by the footman. Sidney headed for Tom’s study, his siblings following, intent on clearing the matter out with Tom. But he changed course when he saw Charlotte and Mary in the drawing room. Something had clearly happened, for both women’s faces were grave, and their eyes were reddened, as if they’d been crying.

His heart stopped. “What is it?” he asked urgently as he rushed to Charlotte’s side. She rose to her feet as he reached her, and he took her hands in his, scanning her face for a clue to what had upset her. 

“It’s old Mr. Stringer.” Her voice was quiet with grief, fresh tears spilling down her cheeks. “He was in the terrace building fixing the wall sconces when the fire started last night. He’s dead. They found his body this morning.”

Sidney’s mind reeled at this fresh horror. He had not known — there had been no one at the site of the fire when he and his brothers and sister were over there just a little while ago, and no one had informed them of this tragic occurrence. The news filled him with apprehension and dread, and he wordlessly gathered Charlotte close, as much for himself as to comfort her, unmindful of their audience.

If Arthur, Diana, and Tom were surprised at Sidney’s openly affectionate gesture towards Charlotte, it was eclipsed by their shock at the news of old Mr. Stringer’s death. Although, if anyone in the room had a mind to look closer, they would have seen the relief that flashed across the eldest Parker’s face for a brief moment. They could not blame _him_ for the fire. 

Arthur sat down heavily in a chair, but Diana strode to Mary’s side. Usually so fretful, the Parker sister realised that, at this moment, she needed to be a pillar of strength for her brothers, her sister-in-law, and their houseguest. “That is indeed a terrible tragedy,” she said. “I’d heard that Mr. Stringer was a very diligent worker, and I am most truly sorry about his demise.” 

She reached out and squeezed Charlotte’s hand in sympathy. “But we cannot let these setbacks defeat us. We are Parkers, we will find a way together. Sanditon must not be allowed to founder and fall!” There was a ring of determination in her voice, making her almost unrecognisable from the usually plaintive, complaining woman that she was.

“Whatever do you mean?” Mary asked, completely at sea as to what Diana was talking about. Her eyes moved from her sister-in-law to her two brothers-in-law, both of whom looked uncharacteristically grim, and finally to her husband, who refused to meet her gaze. “What has happened?”

Charlotte too was looking at all the Parkers curiously, and raised her gaze to Sidney when she felt him tense at Mary’s question. He looked back at her, extremely anxious and worried, alarming her because she had never seen him this way. “What has happened?” she repeated Mary’s question urgently.

“There was no insurance for the terrace construction.” Sidney’s voice was tight. “If we cannot find a way to recover our losses, to repay the debt, we are ruined.”

There was a short, appalled silence. Charlotte’s heart sank, and she gripped Sidney’s hand tighter, trying to glean just how bad the situation was.

“How much do we owe?” Mary asked, staring at her husband, who still refused to look at her. “How much, Tom?” she demanded.

Tom remained silent. He had the decency to look a little ashamed, but mostly sported the injured manner of a victim. 

It was Arthur who answered. “Eighty thousand pounds.”

Charlotte gasped. Even knowing that Georgiana was worth a hundred thousand pounds, such huge sums of money were still unfathomable to her. To owe so much!

“Eighty thousand pounds,” Mary whispered, unaware that she was echoing her brother-in-law’s earlier horror. “ _Eighty thousand pounds? How?_ ”

“You must not worry about it, my dear.” Tom finally found his voice, and moved to placate his wife, putting on what he hoped was a brave smile to reassure her. “It– It– It’s just a temporary setback. Sidney and I will have this sorted out in a matter of days, you’ll see.”

Both Sidney and Charlotte’s heads came up, perturbed at the casual way in which Tom assumed that Sidney would do whatever was needed to fix his — Tom’s — mistakes, and appalled at how dismissive he was being about the calamity. 

“A temporary setback?” Mary’s voice quivered with incredulity. “Tom, have you taken leave of your senses? _We owe eighty thousand pounds_!”

Tom’s fake, plastered-on smile faltered. “Come my dear,” he began, “It’s no use dwelling on it, what’s done is done–”

“‘ _No use dwelling on it_ ’?” Mary repeated, “Tom, you have ruined us! How could you not buy insurance?”

“I– I had intended to, of course. But the premiums were so high, and there were so many other calls on my capital… The money was better used elsewhere.” Tom paused as Mary let out something akin to a short, sharp strangled scream. He continued, a little uncertain but determined to be heard, to make Mary see how unfair she was being, “Besides, the fire was old Mr. Stringer’s fault. If he had not been inside the building, it would have never–”

Mary whirled on him. “Do _not_ blame him for this! He would have never even been inside that building if you had provided enough workers and equipment to finish the work on time!”

Tom’s voice hardened. “There’s no need for us to have our disagreement in front of everyone. You and I shall talk about this later when you have calmed down.”

“How dare you, Tom Parker!” Mary’s eyes blazed with a fury no one had ever seen or even expected from her. “You have lied to me, hidden from me how bad things really are! You show no remorse that you’ve squandered away our fortunes and disgraced our name, or that you’ve put the lives and livelihoods of your workers in jeopardy!” She paused to let the severity of her words sink in, but knowing Tom, they probably wouldn’t even make a dent. “And everyone here is family! They certainly know better than I of your troubles and debts, don’t they?” she added with a speaking look at Sidney, who coloured a little.

He had indeed realised, when he returned to Sanditon after his first visit, that Mary knew nothing about Tom asking him to speak to the banks in London to extend him more credit. In fact, Tom seemed to have hidden everything about his financial problems from his wife. But it was not Sidney’s place to say anything to Mary, so he had evaded her tentative questions and tried to help Tom as unobtrusively as he could. Neither he nor Mary had known how truly dire straits Tom was in. 

Tom had quailed before Mary’s wrath, and now stood with his eyes cast down, her accusations burning in his mind. He was aware of the truth in her words, but had no answer for her. He had tried his best to hide the enormity of the situation from her, so that she wouldn’t think he was a failure. Now, things had worsened beyond anything he could have imagined. 

The room was swamped in silence and despair. Sidney, Charlotte, Arthur, and Diana stood, awkward and uncomfortable, as Mary paced back and forth before the windows, anger and distress pouring off her. None of them had seen Mary and Tom argue so, and none of them knew what to say after Mary’s outburst.

After a pause, Tom spoke again. “I will repair this. I promise you, Mary,” he took a step towards her, then desisted at the warning look she flashed him. “Sidney and I will leave for London straight away. You have my solemn word that this will all be fixed in no time at all.”

Charlotte glanced up Sidney, noting the way his jaw clenched at how Tom just seemed to take for granted that he would right this grievous misfortune caused by Tom’s own mismanagement of his affairs. Sidney’s words from their conversation the previous night rang through her mind: “ _He takes it as his due, without any consideration for others nor a thought for any consequences_.”

Yet she knew Sidney _would_ do whatever was needed to fix this. He loved his family, and his heart was too big to allow them or the people of Sanditon to suffer. Charlotte could do no less, and resolved to do everything she could to support Sidney in this.

Besides, she and Sidney had spoken of this last night, had they not, of how someone needed to rein Tom in before he bankrupted them all? They had both known even then that that person would be Sidney, and now Tom had gone and done exactly what his brother had feared. They had no choice, if the Parkers and Sanditon were to be saved.

Mary threw her husband a disgusted look. “I told you Tom, I want no more of your promises. You’ve broken every single one that you’ve made so far. I have made allowances for you all this time, but I cannot rely on you anymore. _This family_ cannot rely on you anymore. All you care about — all you have _always_ cared about — is Sanditon, and you’ve ruined even that.” 


	2. Chapter 2

There was much to be done. There was no doubt that Sidney would have to go to London. He was the best placed of the Parkers to approach banks and potential investors. He would meet his accountant and his solicitor, and with their help, see what he could do to salvage the situation and the family. 

But before they could decide anything, before they could make any plans on how to proceed, they had one most important task to deal with.

They had no choice; Lady Denham had to be told the terrible news. 

It was a most unpleasant conversation. 

“You have betrayed me! You have betrayed us all!” Lady Denham raged at Tom, who now at least had the grace to look properly ashamed as he, Mary, Sidney, and Charlotte stood in her drawing room at Sanditon House. “I will see you in the debtors’ prison! I will see you in the poorhouse! Where are your promises now, Mr. Parker? Dust and ashes! You might as well have lost my money at the gaming tables! You _despicable_ man!”

“Lady Denham!” Mary protested, but was cut off, for the older lady’s ire was too much to be contained.

“I am very sorry for you, Mrs Parker, but some things can never be forgiven!”

“Lady Denham,” Charlotte intervened, her calm voice soothing amidst the frayed tempers, “If you pursue the debt now, you may be robbing yourself. We can rebuild the terrace, bigger and better than before.”

“Give us a fortnight’s grace at least,” Sidney added, sensing that there would be no more help from that quarter, understandably so. 

“A fortnight?!” Lady Denham scoffed. She looked like she’d rather send all the Parkers to the Clink right away, and Charlotte too. Her anger still nowhere near mollified, she gave a sniff. “One _week_ ,” she pronounced, glaring at Tom like she rather hoped that he _wouldn’t_ be able to come up with a solution. 

She turned and sailed out of her drawing room like a galleon, leaving her liveried footman to show them out.

**~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~  
**

Seated across from Sidney in the carriage on the way back to Trafalgar House, Charlotte took the chance to surreptitiously study her fiancé. Sidney’s gaze was fixed, unseeing, somewhere outside the window, but she could tell from the deep furrow between his eyebrows that his mind was occupied. No doubt he was trying to think of the people he could contact in London, and the resources he could utilise to get the Parker family out of this predicament. His eyes met hers once, and he sent her a tight smile that seemed more like a grimace, before turning to look out of the window again, the tense set of his shoulders revealing the burden of his worry.

Tall and broad-shouldered, and with his powerful bearing, Sidney always gave the impression of being strong and steady, like a rock, capable of dealing with any obstacle or weathering any adversity. It was not just his physical strength, which Charlotte knew from personal experience was considerable — he had so easily dispatched the man who had assaulted her in the alley in London — but also his confidence and strength of will. It worried her now to see how the responsibility of Tom’s debt weighed heavier on him with each passing moment. 

As for Tom, she had always known he was a bit single-minded and ridiculous when it came to Sanditon, and she had still been fond of him. But any admiration she had for the man was fading fast after the scene she had witnessed earlier at Trafalgar House. It was shocking to see how he’d tried to shrug off the blame and absolve himself of the responsibility of his own mistakes, trying his best to put it on someone else. 

It was a sobering eye-opener to the kind of person Tom Parker really was, and how different Sidney was to his brother. Where one was unreliable, the other was steadfast and dependable. No wonder the whole Parker family looked to Sidney to bail him out of their troubles, though no one had said it in as many words.

Charlotte dearly wished she could go to London with Sidney; she knew he would welcome her support, as he had done (albeit grudgingly at first) during their search and rescue of Georgiana. But she was aware that could not happen. This situation was far too different from last time, and engaged or not, they would not be allowed to hare off by themselves while still unmarried.

She tried to wrack her mind for some way she could help. But being from rural Willingden and having neither money nor connections, the only solution she could think of was to ask Lady Susan Worcester for help. She was sure Susan would not mind. Despite having become friends only a few days ago, Susan seemed to genuinely care for Charlotte; her arrival at the regatta solely to spend time with Charlotte was testament enough, as she’d told Tom herself. Charlotte decided to suggest it to Sidney and Mary, and contact her friend in London if they consented.

When they disembarked from the carriage in front of Trafalgar House, Sidney cleared his throat. “Miss Heywood, might I have a word?”

Charlotte looked at him, surprised, then glanced at Mary, not exactly for permission but she was unsure what the rules were now that she and Sidney were engaged.

Mary nodded, a little worried by Sidney’s demeanour; he looked unusually tense and grim. She nudged a curious Tom inside as she watched the young couple walk away, hoping that what had happened would not mar their newfound happiness in any way.

Sidney and Charlotte walked down to the shore in silence. They didn’t go as far as the cliffs or the cove where Sidney liked to go swimming, but just up to the dunes, far enough that no one would hear their conversation. 

Charlotte was a little surprised and concerned that Sidney wanted to speak with her alone right now. Not that she had any complaints about spending time with him, but she rather thought the urgency of the situation meant he would have to rush to London directly now that they had spoken to Lady Denham. A week was hardly any time after all, and the sooner he reached the capital the better.

But maybe he wanted to talk to her for that very reason — because he was leaving. Perhaps he had something important to say to her, like asking her to look after Mary and Tom and the rest of his family. Mary was still furious with Tom, no matter how unwavering her support for her husband before Lady Denham. Charlotte vowed to do everything she could for the Parkers, regardless of Sidney what asked of her. She had already come to regard them as family, and soon enough, they were to be her family in truth too.

As they walked on, Charlotte, usually so observant of and attentive to everyone around her, was so caught up with her own thoughts that she was unaware of the turmoil raging inside her fiancé.

**~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~**

For the entire duration of walk to the dunes, Sidney felt like nothing other than a condemned man on his way to the gallows. Never before had he felt such frustration and anger and despair, and even fear. 

On the way to Sanditon House, he had thought hard about how to bring up the subject of their engagement with Charlotte, how to tell her she could withdraw from it if she wished. His difficulty in finding the right words had more to do with his own ardent feelings for her — he had no wish to let her go. But he loved her, and intended to respect her decision if she did wish to be freed, no matter how much it killed him to do so. The best he could hope for was to ask her to wait for him, if she was willing, until this mess was sorted and the Parkers were on their feet again.

But after the conversation with Lady Denham — and the fact that Sanditon’s patroness had given them just one week to find the money — the sheer enormity of Tom’s debt had broken over him once again like a wave when he went swimming in the sea. His family was looking to him for a way out, he knew this. Tom simply did not have the connections or the business sense and besides, his name was mud with all the banks. Sidney could not disregard his family’s peril.

With each passing moment, as the depth of the Parkers’ dire straits made themselves clearer and clearer, he knew breaking off the engagement was not a choice anymore. It _had_ to be done. For Charlotte.

She did not deserve to become a casualty of Tom’s ill-thought-out schemes, to be dragged down with the Parkers. He couldn’t let Charlotte be tainted by his misfortune; he loved her too much to inflict such ignominy on her. She would eventually grow to hate him, and he didn’t think he could bear that.

He wanted her to be safe and happy, even if it was without him, no matter how utterly unbearable the thought of giving her up was. 

No, Charlotte deserved so much better, and Sidney had to do this for her sake.

But the knowledge that he was doing this for her own good did not lessen his agony in any way. In his increasing despair and panic, his bleak thoughts spiralled out of control. 

When it came to love and happiness, it appeared he was doomed. Twice he had given his heart, and now it seemed that for the second time too, he was fated to lose the woman he loved. 

Last time, he had been devastated. Now, knowing that his infatuation with Eliza ten years ago was nothing compared to the love he felt for Charlotte now, the thought of having to give her up pierced him to the soul.

Falling in love with Charlotte had given him his first true happiness in a decade; he had felt such incandescent joy to know she loved him back. He had allowed himself to dream, to imagine their future together — marriage, a home of their own, children, a family. But it had lasted barely a handful of hours, before his joy was reduced to ashes along with Tom’s blasted uninsured terrace. Sidney barely stopped himself from moaning out loud; the pain he felt was almost physical.

The quiet walk to the dunes reminded him of their walk to the cliffs, when he’d been equally nervous and at a loss for how to start a conversation with her. But his nervousness then had been paired with hope — hope that Charlotte returned his feelings, hope that she wanted to be with him, to have a life with him the way he wanted to with her.

Today, he felt like he was walking to his own execution. How could he say the words? How could he hurt Charlotte like this? What would she think of him? Would she be relieved that he was giving her a way out? Or would she think him a cad, for trifling with her feelings and casting her aside? Would she understand why he had to do this? To break both their hearts in the process?

They reached the dunes, and for a moment stood quietly staring out over the vast blue expanse. Despite the clear skies, the sea was a bit rough this morning. There were no swimmers. The waves pounded the shore with a little extra force and there was an unexpected nip in the summer air. 

The sea seemed agitated, reflecting Sidney’s mood, and for a mad moment, he was tempted to forget everything and throw himself in it. It was only the thought, the presence of the woman next to him that kept him where he was. 

Charlotte turned to Sidney, and her face changed from its usual calm and open countenance to alarm in a second. “Sidney!” she exclaimed. “Are you alright? You look unwell!”

He certainly felt like he was about to be violently sick. 

She stepped closer and he finally raised his eyes to hers, feeling wretched.

Charlotte stopped. Sidney looked beyond merely upset or agitated, as he had done in the carriage. In fact, he looked utterly tormented, almost grief-stricken, and she knew at once that whatever was bothering him was not to do with finding the money to pay Tom’s debts. Her prickle of unease turned into a spike of fear. “What is it?”

Sidney’s mouth was dry, his chest felt tight, and his heart was pounding hard as he battled to keep himself together and not fall apart. Every single fibre of his being rebelled at what he was about to do. It felt like he was committing the most horrible betrayal.

He did not know how to begin. This was the hardest conversation he had to force himself into having. He wished he could take Charlotte’s hands in his, as much to hold her as to steady himself, but he did not dare touch her. He was afraid that once he did, he might never want to let go, and would falter from his purpose.

“Charlotte…” Sidney swallowed the lump in his throat. His cravat felt like it was suffocating him, a tight noose around his neck. He tugged at it, to no avail. “With everything that has happened– I uh– that is to say–” 

He could not bring himself to say it, could not condemn himself to a life without her. But he forced himself to speak, to choke the words out.

“With everything that has happened, with the safety and reputation, the entire future of the Parker family in danger, I think we should call off the engagement.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, this chapter would not cooperate! It was somehow both difficult and time consuming to write, despite the fact that I’ve had it outlined for a while. And I also had to keep setting it aside to focus on work 😑 But I think it turned out alright in the end, so hope you like where it’s going!
> 
> As always, thanks for reading and commenting, I really appreciate it!

* * *

There was the sound of waves crashing on the shore, the screeching cries of seagulls flying above. But between them hung a hollow silence, palpable, almost like a living thing.

Charlotte stared up at Sidney in shock, certain she had misheard, misunderstood. “You– you don’t wish to marry me anymore?” 

For one moment, Sidney’s conscience warred with his heart. He could lie, tell her he didn’t want to marry her. She would break off the engagement and both their hearts, but at least she’d be away from him and the Parkers, safe from dishonour and society’s opprobrium. He wished he had the courage to do it. He didn’t.

“I want it more than anything else in the world! I love you, Charlotte.”

“Then… I don’t understand,” she said, hating how young and scared and _pathetic_ she sounded. She switched her gaze to focus on the chain of his fob watch, willing herself not to tear up as her bewildered mind tried to comprehend his sudden declaration. What had made him change his mind? “Have I said or done something that made you think I wouldn’t want to marry you?” 

“No, of course not.” He hastened to reassure her, feeling like the worst sort of cad. Her trembling lip and the distress in her voice were like knives to his heart. “But you know the extent of our debts. If we are not able to save ourselves, I might lose everything I own. And you cannot– you deserve someone who can give you the world, Charlotte, not a man who might be rendered a disgraced and penniless pauper–” 

He broke off, his mouth filling with acid at the thought of her with someone else, some other man who would marry her and make her happy — some other man who would do for her all the things that he wanted to, to whom she would give her smiles and kisses, her intelligence and wit, her love and affection — some other man who would live the life he wanted with Charlotte. 

It hit him with a fresh vengeance, the miserable truth that without her his life would be nothing but an empty, meaningless expanse.

If he wasn’t so caught up in his own misery, he might have noticed how she visibly stiffened, seen the pain flare in her eyes. 

“Did you think, Sidney, that I agreed to marry you only for your fortune? Perhaps you believe, like Lady Denham does, that I only came to Sanditon to find myself a wealthy husband?” 

Sidney’s head came up at the disdain in her voice, saw the same emotion reflected in her eyes. And realised too late that his words had insulted her, hurt her. Angered her. “No! Charlotte–” 

“Do you remember what I said at Lady Denham’s luncheon?” There was no mistaking her rapidly mounting ire. “Perhaps you don’t, as back then you dismissed me as a frivolous, silly girl and barely tolerated me–” 

“I remember every word!” he grit out, stung. “I didn’t–”

“Then you know that a man’s wealth would not factor into my decision if I chose to marry him!”

Sidney swore out loud. That was not what he meant! He knew well Charlotte’s strong opinions on the subject of marriage. But in his haste to do what he thought was the right thing, he had not considered how dishonourable and reprehensible his sudden reversal on their engagement might appear to her. By disregarding her beliefs, however unintentionally, he had wounded her very badly indeed and made her feel humiliated.

Charlotte was not unfamiliar with the anger Sidney was capable of rousing in her. Their relationship had been confrontational right from the start, and had remained so almost up until the moment they confessed their love for each other. But the idea that he believed even for a moment that his money, or the lack of it, would make her reconsider her decision to marry him — that he thought her to be just like the woman who had jilted him ten years ago for a richer man — sent her wrath soaring through the roof.

“I am _not_ Eliza Campion!”

Sidney flinched and paled as if he’d been slapped. Then his eyes went black with a rage to match hers. “I know who I love!” he snapped, an unmistakeable menace in his tone that had turned hardened men jelly-legged in terror when he used it on them. 

It would have terrified Charlotte too, if she wasn’t so furious herself. “Then how could you ask this of me?” she flung back. 

It was like the shouting match in the street all over again — both of them standing a mere foot apart, faces obstinate and red, voices raised, tempers boiling over. Except there were tears in her eyes now, and– 

Sidney’s temper died as quickly as it had flared. “Charlotte–”

“Do you believe that I do not love you back, perhaps? Or that my feelings for you are so weak that I would break our engagement at the first sign of hardship?”

“It’s not like that, Charlotte!” He burst out in frustration, hating himself for the break in her voice. “I might be ruined, the Parker name could be disgraced! I cannot let this besmirch your reputation too.”

“And what would you have me do? Go back to Willingden and continue with my life as if none of this had happened? Live alone for the rest of my days with my pristine reputation, knowing I cannot be with anyone else because I could never marry someone I do not love?”

They stared at each other, chests heaving with emotion.

“I would ask you to wait for me,” Sidney said quietly. “Until this is all over.”

“And how long will that be, Sidney? I might be just a farmer’s daughter who has been nowhere and knows nothing of the world.” Her lips twisted in a bitter smile. “But even I know that securing eighty thousand pounds for a mismanaged enterprise cannot be an easy feat, even for a successful businessman such as you.”

He cursed and admired her in equal parts for her intelligence — he didn’t think anyone else had realised the sheer difficulty of trying to lock down such a huge sum for Sanditon in a week. He was running out of arguments to make her see the situation from his perspective. “Your parents would never agree to such a match,” he tried weakly.

Charlotte drew herself up at that, a self-assured, almost proud mien settling about her. “My parents have raised me to think for myself, to know my own mind, and to not falter in the face of adversity. It would be a poor reflection on them indeed if they expected me to withdraw from an engagement with the man I love at the sign of the first obstacle.”

Her words rocked Sidney to the core. Not once had he viewed it in that way, that Charlotte might _want_ to stand by him.

In the past decade, he had become used to being alone, working alone, with no one to rely on but himself. But against all odds, now he had someone to love, and his protective instincts had made him rush to get her as far away from the danger as possible, which meant removing her from him. He had not imagined that she would want to share his burden, ease it so that he did not have to shoulder it all by himself. Knowing Charlotte as he did — kind and loving and brave — he felt ashamed to admit that because she would never abandon someone she cared for, and would do everything she could to help them.

“What if this had occurred _after_ we were married?” Charlotte asked after a prolonged pause during which Sidney said nothing, just stared at her with a strange expression on his face. “Would you have set me aside then? Would I not have stood by you? Indeed, as your wife, it would be expected of me. Then why would you think that I wouldn’t do so now?”

He gaped at her. In a flash of insight, he realised he was doing the same thing with Charlotte that Tom had done with Mary all along, albeit for different reasons. He had disapproved of Tom hiding his financial difficulties from Mary lest she think him a failure, but here he was, trying to protect Charlotte from the fallout of the Parkers’ financial ruin by trying to push her away. Like his brother, he had forgotten that the woman he loved was not a fragile damsel of delicate sensibilities who needed to be shielded from the reality of an unpleasant situation. That instead she was his strength, his support. 

Sidney had forgotten how well he and Charlotte worked together, how indispensible her intelligence and good sense could be. Hadn’t he told her himself that he would not have been able to find Georgiana in London without her? After everything they had been through together, he had not treated Charlotte with the trust and respect she deserved, of knowing and having faith that she would be by his side, no matter the circumstances. What a fool he was.

He didn’t realise he’d uttered the words out loud — “What a fool I am.” — until Charlotte let out a derisive snort. 

“That’s the first sensible thing you’ve said in this entire conversation.” 

She turned her back to him to face the sea, the rigid set of her narrow shoulders clearly indicating that she was still riled at him for his bout of imbecility. And despite the seriousness of the situation, Sidney couldn’t help the smile that tugged at his lips and the lightness that filled his heart. Fiery, stubborn, _steadfast_ Charlotte Heywood — was it any wonder that he loved her? Who else would dare to all but call him an idiot to his face while simultaneously refusing to give up on him?

His amusement vanished when he realised his unthinking actions had hurt her very badly. He would be lucky if she didn’t conclude that he was an utter brute and a blockhead, and decide she was better off without him after all.

He owed her an apology for making the mistake of underestimating her again. For hurting her by allowing her to feel that he didn’t respect and value her. For giving her cause to think even for one moment that he thought she was anything like Eliza Campion. 

Sidney stepped up behind her but didn’t touch her, not sure she would welcome it while in such a temper. “Charlotte–”

She spun around to face him, and the quiet devastation on her face nearly killed him.

“If you truly wish for me to free you of–”

“No,” he said hastily. “No, I don’t want that at all.” 

Her gaze shot up to his, impatience and temper leaping into her eyes once more. “ _What_ –”

“I’m sorry.” Dear god, he was _such_ a fool. “Charlotte, I didn’t mean to– I only sought to protect you. I never meant to imply that my wealth had any bearing on your decision to marry me. I was so preoccupied with wanting to keep you safe from disgrace and scandal that I gave little thought to what asking you to end the engagement might seem like to you.”

He paused for a moment, eyes locked with hers, but she said nothing, simply crossed her arms beneath her breasts and regarded him back frostily. 

He swallowed, but continued determinedly. He had to make her believe that he was sincere; he could not have her think he was playing fast and loose with her feelings. “I’m not used to having someone else to worry about, someone I care for so deeply. I will not apologise for wanting you to be safe. But I was wrong to try and take a decision about our future — _your_ future — without discussing it with you. I cannot, _will not_ take that freedom away from you.”

The firm set of her jaw softened, and the ice in her eyes thawed a little. But she still looked unsure and not entirely mollified. It made his heart ache with remorse and his stomach twist with nervousness. He could never forgive himself if his rash behaviour had destroyed their chance at happiness.

“I want nothing in the world other than a life with you, Charlotte,” he said vulnerably. “All my hopes, my dreams, my future – they’re all for you. _With_ you.” 

Sidney’s words dispelled the final fragments of her doubt and anger. The pounding of her heart in her ears slowed and relief seeped in. She recognised what he had tried to do, what he felt honour-bound to do. Silly man, willing to give up his happiness for her wellbeing, her reputation. 

“I wish for the same, Sidney.” She said softly, not missing the way his shoulders dropped a little in relief. “But you cannot try to coddle me or lock me away every time you have some misguided notion that my safety is threatened.”

A muscle twitched in his jaw, but after a moment he bowed his head, yielding without argument. He would have to learn to control his protective instincts where Charlotte was concerned. He knew he might be a bit irrational when it came to her wellbeing, but he could not smother her fiery and independent spirit. It was one of the things he loved most about her, after all.

“And you have to let me help you. You’re not alone anymore, Sidney, you don’t have deal with everything by yourself.”

He sighed, nodded. “I’m aware. It is something I am yet to get used to.”

“Well Mr. Parker, it is best that you get used to it soon,” she said firmly, allowing a note of affection to colour her tone. “I am not going anywhere.”

“I will not pretend that I want anything other than to have you by my side, _always_.”

The last bit of doubt and despair was dispelled. He took her hands and tugged her close, and she went willingly into his arms, holding him and letting herself be held. She pressed her face into his shoulder, and he rested his cheek on the top of her head. He was still taut as a bowstring; she could feel the tension in his muscles as he held her.

“We’re not even wed and already we’re bickering like an old married couple,” Sidney murmured, trying to lighten the mood. 

“We have always bickered.” Charlotte’s laughter was muffled against his coat. “I’m afraid, Mr. Parker, that if you wanted a docile, simpering wife, you have fallen in love with the wrong woman.”

“I have fallen in love with exactly the right woman for me.” Sidney exhaled heavily, shakily, the bone-deep fear of losing her slowly ebbing. He was not going to have to give her up. He hadn’t realised how afraid he was at the thought of losing her, afraid of what it would do to him. How badly it would break him. “ _Charlotte_.” His arms tightened around her as he struggled to contain his emotions. 

Charlotte gripped him back just as tightly, understanding instinctively that he needed the reassurance more than she did. “I love you too, Sidney.”

He bent his head and kissed her, letting their closeness soothe, assure, settle him, settle them both. The events of the morning and their ensuing argument had left them both feeling a little raw and fragile, and it was indescribable relief to be in each other’s arms, sweetened by the knowledge that they still had one another. Even when the kiss deepened, it burgeoned with emotion more than desire, and they sank into it, clinging to each other, consumed by the need to hold each other as long and as tight and as close as possible. 

Up on the dunes, they were far away from the people on the beach, but not invisible or out of anyone’s line of sight. Anybody could look in their direction and see them, or worse, come upon them while walking. In some minuscule, remote corner of his mind that managed to emerge from the haze of Charlotte’s kisses, Sidney knew they had to stop. It would ruin her reputation if they were caught indulging in amorous displays of affection out in the open, and they could not risk that. It took herculean willpower to part his lips from hers, but he finally managed to break away.

They stood for a moment, gazes locked, foreheads pressed to each other’s, breathing deeply, content to just _be_ with each other. 

But as much as they wanted, they could not stay in their bubble of happiness. Reality beckoned, and would not be ignored.

“I have to go to London,” Sidney said, voicing the worry that sat so heavy on his shoulders. “I must do whatever I can to help Tom and the family, though I have no idea how I will manage it.”

“I believe you will.” 

There was firm confidence and encouragement in Charlotte’s face, her voice, and he could not but believe her. Her words soothed some of the anxiety that had been roiling inside of him ever since he learnt of Tom’s folly this morning.

“I wish I could come with you.” She had not meant to say it out loud, but the longing to go with him was so acute that the words had rolled off her tongue without her permission. 

For a moment, he truly entertained the idea, for he wanted nothing more, saw hope leap into Charlotte’s eyes. Then, he shook his head on a regretful sigh. “It would not be proper for us to travel alone together without a chaperone,” he said. “We cannot risk any stain to your reputation, Charlotte.”

“We have done it before. In London.”

“Aye, and that was risky enough,” he said, causing her to let out a sulky little huff. But she knew he was right.

His hand came up to cup her chin, his thumb tracing the delicate line of her jaw. “When I return, when this is all sorted, we can start planning our own life together.” 

They shared a long look. Her lips curved into a small smile, and he couldn’t help smiling back. Whatever came next, they didn’t have to face it on their own anymore. They had each other, and they would face it together. 

He bent to kiss her one last time, a quick, intense press of his lips against hers, before they parted with reluctant sighs, and turned and started making their way back towards town. 

“We haven’t told anyone other than Mary our news,” Sidney said. He held out his arm for her to take, and she tucked her fingers in the crook of his elbow. “Do you want to break it to them now, or would you like your parents to know first?”

“I’ll write to my parents and Alison soon enough, but there’s no reason why we can’t tell your family now.”

“They’ll be your family soon too,” he reminded her.

“Charlotte Parker,” she murmured, trying out what would become her new name. It sounded strange and unfamiliar, and yet utterly right. It sent a frisson of awareness, of anticipation up her spine.

Sidney’s eyes darkened. Charlotte glanced up at him, saw his expression, the slightly wild look in his eyes, and blushed deeply.

It was a good thing they were hailed by a familiar voice just then, because all Sidney wanted to do at that moment was throw all caution to the winds and kiss Charlotte senseless.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a reminder that I have made and will be making references in this fic to the prequel story. So if there’s a reference to a past incident that you don’t recognise, it’s probably from there.
> 
> Also, a huge thank you to everyone who’s reading and commenting, I really appreciate you all!

* * *

Sidney and Charlotte turned to Lord George Babington as he sauntered up the path, having come up from town on his way to Sanditon House. 

“Babbers.”

“Sidney, Miss Heywood.” Babington bowed to her. “Well met!”

His eyes moved from Sidney to the young woman who had so thoroughly captured his friend’s attention this summer. He noted their flushed cheeks, how close they stood next to each other, with her arm wound through his, and the way Sidney’s eyes kept darting to Miss Heywood, as if he could not bear to look away from her for long. And drew the obvious conclusion. “I take it you received a favourable answer after all, old friend?”

Sidney could not help the broad grin that spread across his face. “I did,” he said, his eyes going to Charlotte again, whose smile rivalled his. “Though not at the ball. We were interrupted–” 

He cut himself off abruptly, remembering Sir Edward Denham’s scandalous outburst in the Assembly Rooms the previous evening, and what the raving man had said about his own stepsister in front of all the ball-goers. The very same stepsister Sidney’s friend was smitten with.

But Babington let out a celebratory whoop. “Congratulations!” he said, clapping Sidney hard on the shoulder a few times. “And to you too, Miss Heywood. I am very happy for the both of you!” 

“Thank you, Lord Babington.”

Sidney regarded his friend, whose demeanour seemed all too jolly even for Babington, especially given the events that transpired at the Midsummer ball. “What news of Miss Denham?” he asked carefully.

“ _Ah_.” Babbington’s grin widened, if that were possible. “Miss Denham _finally_ accepted my proposal. At the ball, after–” he grimaced, “After everything.” His briefly grim countenance swiftly changed back to his jubilant self. “I too am engaged!”

Sidney let out a shout of laughter and the two men embraced in a manly hug with much backslapping as Charlotte watched in happy astonishment. She’d never seen Sidney so light and carefree, he and Lord Babington looked like two little boys celebrating after having successfully gotten away with some mischief.

“Congratulations, Lord Babington,” she said once they had calmed a bit. “And to Miss Denham as well, when you see her. I wish you both every happiness together.” 

Charlotte remembered how devastated Esther had been to be humiliated by her stepbrother in such a public fashion. She’d run after Esther to see that she was alright, but hadn’t said anything when she found her, not wanting to give empty platitudes and not sure how to respond after Sir Edward’s depraved accusations. Instead, she had just silently sat with the other woman, held her hands, and let her know her she wasn’t alone. 

Charlotte was glad that Esther had decided to take a chance with Lord Babington. She remembered that it had not seemed that their relationship had a chance after Lord Babington had confessed to her at Mrs. Maudsley’s ball in London that he appeared to be mistaken about her affections towards him.

“Thank you, Miss Heywood.” Babington looked positively giddy now that he had shared his news, almost as if he would float away from the joy of it. He sighed, seemingly lost for a moment in his own happiness, then refocused on his friends once again. “I hope, Miss Heywood, when Parker proposed, he was other than his usual broody self?”

The memory of their conversations, of all the things Sidney had said to her made Charlotte blush rosily. _I’m my best self, my truest self when I’m with you. I’ve never wanted to put myself under anyone else’s power before. I want a life with you. Be my wife, Charlotte. Please._ She understood exactly how Lord Babington felt; indeed, her giddiness must put his to shame. “Mr. Parker can be very sweet when he puts his mind to it.” 

“Sweet? Sidney? Are you sure this is him, and not some imposter?” Babington elbowed Sidney in the ribs. 

But Sidney, still euphoric with joy and relief that Charlotte hadn’t withdrawn from their engagement, let his friend’s feeble jest slide and, in fact, countered it with one of his own. “Pray, tell no one. I have a reputation to uphold.”

Charlotte rolled her eyes but she was smiling. “Your secret is safe with me.”

“I hope you know, Miss Heywood, that you are far too good for the likes of this reprobate!”

“Well, he is much improved since we first met, or I don’t think we’d be here today,” she quipped, making both men laugh.

“How is Tom coping after the fire?” Lord Babington asked. He had arrived at the terrace site some time after the blaze broke out, having already left the Assembly Rooms to take Esther back to Sanditon House when those attending the ball learnt of the fire.

The light, happy mood instantly plummeted. Sidney and Charlotte blanched, all humour leaching out of their faces. They exchanged tense glances, and she nodded. There were very few people Sidney could trust, but Babington had always been one of them.

“I’m afraid there is bad news on that front, Babbers.” 

Sidney explained the entire situation to his friend, from finding out Tom had no insurance for the construction works to how much he owed his various debtors, and Lady Denham giving them just a week’s time to return her money. 

“Good lord! I am so sorry, Sidney, I had no idea.” 

Babington had never seen Sidney so worried, and could not blame him. Ever since he had returned from Antigua, Sidney had done everything he could to help his older brother, mainly from a sense of obligation as Tom had paid _his_ debts a decade ago. For years, Babington had seen Sidney repeatedly yield to the pressure of Tom’s unceasing demands, helping however he could despite his evident irritation and reluctance to involve himself in the ill-managed and haphazard development of Sanditon. 

Babington did not understand how someone could be quite so blind to his brother’s aversion as Tom was to Sidney’s, but he also could not fathom why his friend gave in every time. Surely he could see how detrimental it was to him? But that was Sidney for you; he might not like it, but he did everything he could for those he loved, often regardless of the cost to himself.

And now Sidney was saddled with a responsibility that was not his at all, except his feckless brother wouldn’t have a clue how to proceed, and would probably just indebt himself even worse to someone who would demand an even heavier price.

“I leave for London today. I just–” Sidney’s eyes darted to Charlotte, his expression sheepish. “I had to talk to Charlotte about something before I left.”

Charlotte returned his look with one of her own, one that plainly said Sidney was trying her patience, but there wasn’t too much admonishment in it. 

Lord Babington observed this byplay between his friend and Miss Heywood with curiosity, sensing something had occurred there. But they seemed to have put it past them, so he did not venture to ask any questions at this time. There were more pressing matters to deal with right now, and anything else could be addressed later.

“I am for Hampshire this afternoon,” he told them. “Mother and Augusta, my sister,” he added in explanation for Charlotte, “are at Beaulieu Park, my country estate, and I need to tell them the news of my engagement. And see that the place is ready by the time Esther and I marry, whenever that is. But I will be in London in two days’ time, Sidney, and I will do everything I can to help. I’m sure something can be done.” 

Sidney just nodded, unable to put into words his gratitude just then, even as a tiny part of him envied his friend. Babington was free to start planning his life with his love, while Sidney could do nothing until his predicament was resolved. He pushed the uncharitable thought out of his mind; if anyone deserved happiness, it was Babbers, and Sidney did not begrudge him even a single sliver of it. 

“Meanwhile, I will try persuading Lady D to give you some more time. Surely she must know that raising eighty thousand pounds in a week is an impossible task.” Babington frowned.

“I doubt you will make her see reason. She would like to see Tom in prison, and I cannot say I blame her after how reckless he has been.” Sidney’s voice betrayed his rage, and Charlotte slid her hand into his, squeezing his fingers. He forced himself to calm down. Anger would not help right now, it would only inhibit him. He needed his head to be clear, needed his wits about him.

“I will try my best,” Babington promised. “I am to be her nephew-in-law, and Esther is her only acknowledged relative now that she has disowned Sir Edward and Miss Brereton. She might be predisposed to hear reason from us that she would not from anyone else.”

“Thank you, old friend.” If anyone might be able to make an impression on Lady Denham, it would be Babbers. “But pray, say nothing to _anyone_ else about this yet. If word gets out of the fire, any progress we have made so far, especially after the regatta, will be lost. The Parker name will be ruined beyond whatever damage Tom has already inflicted upon it, and we cannot afford that.”

Sidney’s eyes went once more to Charlotte, and Babington understood his friend’s unspoken fear. More was at stake here for Sidney than just the Sanditon project and the debt, massive as it was. If the Parkers were forced into circumstances beyond redemption, Miss Heywood’s parents would never allow her to marry him.

“Don’t worry, Sidney. You will not have to deal with this by yourself.” Babington squeezed Sidney’s shoulder, the gesture an assurance of friendship and support.

Sidney nodded, grateful beyond imagination.

Lord Babington took his leave then, and they parted, Sidney and Charlotte returning to town while Babington took the cliff path that would take him to Sanditon House, where his fiancée and her dragon of an aunt waited for him.

**~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~**

Charlotte and Sidney returned to Trafalgar House to find it in a state of intense activity, with maids and footmen rushing about as the housekeeper directed them. They found Mary, Diana, and Arthur in the drawing room with the children, even baby James, who was in his mother’s arms. Tom was nowhere to be seen. 

The three adults looked up when Sidney and Charlotte walked in, their faces lined with worry. But Arthur and Diana’s concern was immediately replaced with curiosity when they saw Sidney and Charlotte holding hands, while Mary looked relieved. Even Alicia, Jenny, and Henry, who would have leaped at their favourite uncle and Charlotte the moment they saw them, held back, as if aware that something was different. 

Sidney looked from them to Charlotte, and she nodded, her small, nervous smile reflecting his own. “Uh– Miss Heywood and I are engaged.”

Sidney’s siblings leapt up from their seats with excited shouts, and swarmed around him and Charlotte much like the children. Alicia, Jenny, and Henry were hanging off Charlotte’s skirts and clutching Sidney’s legs, while Arthur and Diana pulled them into a group hug, so that, for a moment, they were all little more than a confusion of heads and limbs.

“How wonderful!” Arthur hugged Charlotte until she was out of breath, then did the same to Sidney, almost lifting him off the floor in his excitement.

Diana’s embraces were, thankfully, not as forceful as her brother’s, but her voice was no less loud when she joined in the outpouring of happy wishes for the couple. “That’s fantastic!” she exclaimed, hugging Sidney first, then Charlotte. “Is it not the most exciting news, Tom?” she added, spotting their eldest brother near the door.

Tom, who had kept to himself in his study to stay out of the way of his still wrathful wife, had heard Sidney and Charlotte’s return and had tentatively slid into the drawing room, hovering near the door.

“Yes, yes, of course.” He stepped forward, trying to sound jocular. But he lacked his habitual ebullience, and behind his smile, his face looked rather pale and strained. “Congratulations, brother.” He clapped Sidney on the shoulder, but it was half-hearted. “And you too, my dear,” he added to Charlotte.

Sidney’s eyes narrowed a little at Tom’s less than enthusiastic reaction, but he subsided at Charlotte’s nudge. She knew it must be hard for Tom to show much joy when the spectre of the debt hung over his head like the sword of Damocles. She understood the Parkers’ justified anger towards him for landing them in such perilous circumstances, but she could still feel sorry for him.

“You do not seem very surprised, Mary,” Diana commented, noticing that her sister-in-law had not joined the fray, though that might be because she was carrying baby James.

“I became privy to their good news last night, not long after he asked her,” Mary explained as she shot an amused smile at the couple. 

Recalling how Mary had come up upon them at an awkward moment – yet her timing had been opportune or they might have gotten carried away too far – Sidney and Charlotte both blushed.

“Welcome to the family, Miss Heywood.” Arthur looked like he was restraining himself with some difficulty at giving her another of his rib-crushing hugs. “The Parkers are fortunate indeed to gain such strong and lovely women.”

There was a momentary distraction when the nanny came to take the children upstairs. Mary handed off baby James to her, and once Alicia, Jenny, and Henry were gone, she turned, and now there was a business-like air about her.

“I told Arthur and Diana what transpired during the conversation with Lady Denham, Sidney.”

“Good. I will leave for London as soon as I can. Mr. Cartwright and I will meet with bankers, and also try to identify some private investors to approach.” Mr. Cartwright was Sidney’s man of business in the capital. “Lord Babington will be in London in a couple of days, and he has promised to help as well. He might know which investors to approach, or at least whom to speak to.” 

Charlotte stood back, listening as plans were made. On the walk back to Trafalgar House from the dunes, she’d racked her brain for a suitable reason or even a passable enough excuse to justify accompanying Sidney to London, but nothing had come to mind. 

However, it was Mary who now surprisingly solved the problem for her.

“I’m coming with you, Sidney. And the children and Charlotte are too, of course.”

Everybody stared at Mary’s announcement.

Sidney started to assure Mary that he would handle it, that she didn’t have to inconvenience herself, when his gaze landed on Charlotte. She widened her eyes at him, her wordless message obvious. Realising a second later the benefits Mary’s decision posed, he promptly shut his mouth and just nodded.

Besides, Mary seemed to have donned the mantle of indomitable matriarch and her tone brooked no argument, so that was that.

Predictably, Tom could not stay silent. “There’s no need for us trouble ourselves, my dear. I’m sure Sidney can handle–”

“I see you have already absolved yourself of all responsibility and fobbed it all off onto Sidney.” Mary cast her husband a withering glance.

He reddened. “Now see here, Mary–”

“I’m going, Tom. And it’s just as well that you’re staying here. Somebody in this family must make amends for your mistakes. And since I cannot trust you to do that, it will be me.” 

The other occupants of the room exchanged uncomfortable glances. They had never seen Mary and Tom so at odds with each other, or rather Mary so openly critical of Tom. It appeared that her famous well of patience when it came to her husband had depleted and reached its last dregs.

Her words and the accompanying glare effectively silencing her husband, Mary took a deep breath. “My brother is in London, he is a solicitor,” she added in explanation for Charlotte. “He might be able to help us. Besides, I find I cannot bear to be under this roof right now. We are coming to London with you Sidney.” 

She glanced around fiercely, as if expecting a challenge, but no one was foolish enough to contradict her. 

“Very well. We leave as soon as you’re ready, preferably within the hour.”

Before they could disperse, Charlotte swiftly said, “If you do not mind, perhaps I could ask Lady Susan for advice? She might know someone who might be able to help us…” She faltered when everyone stared at her. “Forgive me. I didn’t mean to be presumptuous, I only want to help. I hope you won’t think I am trying to interfere–”

“You could never be presumptuous, dear Miss Heywood. And you are to be one of us now.”

Charlotte was surprised at such warmth coming from Diana. They had talked a little and celebrated together on the day of the cricket match, but otherwise they were not very close. Certainly, she felt more comfortable with Arthur, who did speak of things other than his illnesses and could be amusing and witty.

“Forgive us, dear Miss Heywood.” Arthur patted her hand. “We are simply unused to the fact that you are such dear friends with someone of such importance and rank in the beau monde.”

“I am not surprised Charlotte has made such a dear friend of Lady Susan,” Mary said warmly. “If you believe, Charlotte, that she might be able to help us, and that she will not think it an imposition or an impertinence, then we would be grateful.”

“But we must try to keep the news as contained as we can,” Sidney cautioned. “If word gets out that we are in dire straits, it might hit Sanditon’s prospects worse.”

“I will be discreet,” Charlotte promised. “As will Lady Susan. I am sure she will not think it an imposition or an impertinence.”

“Arthur, Diana,” Mary turned to them. “You could stay here at Trafalgar House while we are away. Keep Tom company.” Although she did not glance at her husband, her motive was clear: she wanted someone to keep an eye on him, and while Diana and Arthur might not be her first choice, with this terrible calamity unfolding, she hoped they would act to stop him from doing anything rash, if he so did.

Diana and Arthur readily agreed, and left for their lodgings to pack and bring back their things, especially any potions, tonics, tinctures, and medications they might need while staying at Trafalgar House for the next week.

Tom said nothing. He wanted to promise Mary he would fix everything, that he would right his mistakes and restore their fortunes. But she would expect him to actually take action, and he had no clue what he could do. Empty promises would not work, and he quaked at the thought of failing her again. Better to let Sidney take care of it, though Tom did try to wrack his brain for a way to stop Mary from having to go to London. Word would surely get out of her going in place of her husband, and he would lose even more face amongst the residents of Sanditon than he had already done. 

But he kept quiet, and no one paid him any more attention as they dispersed to pack for their trip. 

Sidney, Mary, and Charlotte left for London within the hour, the latter two squeezed into the family carriage with the four children and their nanny, while Sidney rode alongside on his horse.

It was possible to travel from Sanditon to London in one day, but it was a tedious journey, made worse by the restless children and a cranky baby. Nevertheless, they pushed on apace, making only quick stops for lunch and tea. To Sidney’s relief, they rolled into London earlier than he’d anticipated, although it was still quite late and already dark. 

Mrs. Mullins, the housekeeper at No. 7 Bedford Place, was used to Sidney’s frequent comings and goings, and efficiently dealt with the unexpected arrivals, directing maids to prepare bedrooms for them and footmen to take their luggage up to the correct rooms.

The travellers had strength for nothing more than a quick supper, efficiently laid out by the cook. The children, already half asleep, went to bed without complaint, and the adults followed soon after. 

It was just as well, Sidney thought as he fell into bed, for the day had been long and had felt more like two or three days instead of just one. 

Tomorrow, they would start their fight to save Sanditon and the Parkers. And though he’d never felt so weary before, a combination of the journey and the worry of their predicament, Sidney curiously did not feel as hopeless as he might have otherwise done. 

His last thought before he surrendered to Morpheus was that at least this time he was not shouldering the burden alone.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I meant to have this chapter up a while earlier, but for one, it’s been a slightly tough couple of weeks for me mental health-wise, and it took a few days to refocus. And for another, the original version of this chapter became so long, that I decided to split it at a point where it made sense, and put this one up now, with the next part to follow soon-ish.
> 
> I hope you all are still enjoying this story as much as I’m enjoying writing it, despite the gaps in updates. Thank you once again for your kudos and lovely comments. They are such encouragement and I appreciate them very much! 
> 
> Finally, in tackling the matter of the debt, I have based it on my extremely basic knowledge and understanding of all things business and finance. So while there are hopefully no gaping holes, if there’s anything else… let’s just go with it.
> 
> I hope you all enjoy this chapter!

* * *

Sidney was up early the next morning. Exhausted from the long ride from Sanditon to London, he’d slept solidly, and felt as rested as was possible with the short hours in bed. He’d woken up to the thrum of nervous anticipation in his veins at what the day might bring. 

He had sent notes to Mr. Cartwright, his man of business, and Mr. Wetherby, his accountant, the previous night, asking them both to meet him at his office at his warehouse this morning on an urgent matter. It was the only task Sidney had managed to accomplish before crashing into bed. 

This morning, he had a quick breakfast and was just shrugging into his coat when Charlotte came rushing down the stairs and into the entrance hall. His heart tumbled in his chest the way it did every time he caught sight of her, a feeling that had quickly become familiar but did not lessen in its intensity in any way for the number of times it happened. He didn’t think he would ever entirely get used to it.

It was immensely gratifying to see that she seemed to have a similar reaction to him. Her cheeks turned decidedly pink the moment she spotted him.

“Sidney!” 

She looked well rested; there were no signs of tiredness or sleeplessness on her face. In fact, she looked her usual cheerful ray-of-sunshine self, eager to take on the day, which did far more to bolster his spirits than the pep talk he’d been giving himself all morning. 

It was time for him to leave — the carriage was waiting outside — but he let himself linger with her for a moment. He so very rarely had her to himself. “What are you doing up so early?” 

“I’m always up early.” Her brows furrowed adorably in confusion. “I wanted to send word to Susan that we’re here in London. I thought it best to meet her as soon as I can.” 

Sidney didn’t doubt that Lady Worcester would meet Charlotte, but he did not see how or why she would help, especially as it was the Parkers on behalf of whom Charlotte was making the plea. Sure, she seemed to have quickly developed a deep fondness for Charlotte — his fiancée had the kind of charming, magnetic personality that drew people of all ilk to her like flies to honey. And sure, Lady Worcester had come to the Sanditon regatta only to meet her, as she had told Tom and Mary, much to the bewilderment of his brother, who could neither fathom her fascination with Charlotte nor understand how Sanditon itself was not the draw. But in Sidney’s experience, people did not just form fast friendships and help each other solely from the goodness of their hearts without wanting or expecting something in return, especially not members of the _haut ton_.

Sidney had felt selfish for allowing Charlotte to come with him to London — or how ever much it was ‘allowing’ on his part, considering Mary had rolled over any objections he might have made. But he wasn’t sorry one bit to have Charlotte here — she had proven herself unexpectedly resourceful in tight situations before. And if nothing else, he was glad they didn’t have to be apart these few days, especially when their future hinged on whatever happened this week. 

Besides, Charlotte’s brilliant mind was the reason Sanditon had even come to the attention of the _beau monde_ , not Tom’s, whose idea of promoting the little seaside resort had been to badger people at a ball in London. So, Charlotte may well turn out to be their lucky charm and strike gold for Sanditon once again. 

There was a footman standing next to the front door, holding his hat and cane ready for him, so Sidney shifted, shielding Charlotte from his view. 

“I should go.” He took her hand in his and raised it to his lips to press a kiss to her fingers. “I’ll see you when I return.”

“Good luck!”

Charlotte gave him such a blindingly lovely smile that it quite transfixed him for a moment even as he was struck by how domestic it all felt, her seeing him off for the day. Was this what it would be like when they were married? He fervently hoped so. 

  
~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~

  
It was a rather ordinary morning for the rest of the occupants of Bedford Place after Sidney left. Having sent her note to Susan, there was nothing Charlotte could do except wait to hear back. She had breakfast with the children and Mary, who had also dispatched a note to her brother, informing him of her arrival in London and asking him to call on her. 

After breakfast, Mary decided to sit with Mrs. Mullins and go over the domestic accounts and matters related to the household management of the Bedford Place house. She had come to London after a very long time, and given their newly-straitened financial situation, she wanted to see where they could economise and cut back. She would have to do the same — in fact, even more ruthlessly — once she returned to Trafalgar House.

With Mary busy, Charlotte took the children to the park around the corner from Bedford Place, the nanny accompanying them. She did not want to go anywhere far in case a reply from Susan arrived, and a footman could easily come and fetch her from the park if she received one.

After the beaches and open spaces of Sanditon, the park was certainly a change, though Charlotte found she preferred the former. Both Tom and Dr. Fuchs had a point after all about the sea air being most refreshing. In comparison, the London air had a smoky, stale feel about it.

But the children enjoyed the change of scene, and ran around and jumped and played. They came back home tired and sweaty but invigorated, and Henry spent all of lunch excitedly telling his mother everything he’d seen and done, and was so caught up that he had to be reminded to eat. 

After lunch, Charlotte spent the afternoon writing long-due letters to her parents and family. She had told only Alison the entire truth of her stay in Sanditon so far, including her tempestuous acquaintance with Sidney, her trip to London to rescue Georgiana, and how her feelings for the middle Parker brother had changed. Her last letter to Alison had contained news up to the day before the regatta, and now she updated her sister on all the developments since then. 

She could scarcely believe it had been but two or three days since the regatta, when she had resigned herself to the idea that Sidney would marry the woman he had loved for a decade, and that anything she had felt between them was a figment of her imagination. But in a bewildering turn of events, Sidney had decided to stay in Sanditon _with her_ instead of going back to London with Mrs. Campion. 

She told Alison about their walk on the clifftops when he had kissed her for the first time, the Midsummer ball, the fire destroying the terrace, and how Sidney had finally asked her to marry him. She explained about the lack of insurance and Tom’s debts, of Sidney telling her she could withdraw from the engagement if she wanted, and how, after a blistering argument, they were still affianced. 

She wrote that she was in London again, with Mary’s permission and indeed with Mary herself, and how they’d come to the capital to find a solution to resolve the Parker family’s financial situation. As her pen sped across the paper, she imagined Alison would be utterly astounded at the unexpected turns in Charlotte’s life over a few short weeks.

To her parents, Charlotte decided after much deliberation not to reveal anything yet, neither about her engagement, nor about Tom’s debts, nor that she was in London for a second time, not that they knew about her first trip here either. She was not sure how they would react to any of it, and decided to wait until she and the Parkers had some clarity about the debt. Mama and Papa might understand her insistence on standing by Sidney through a time of crisis, but they would likely not take kindly to her gallivanting around all over the country alone with him, and she did not want to give them a reason to summon her back to Willingden for good. 

She felt a little guilty about deceiving them but reasoned that she was old enough to know her mind, and that she and her reputation were not in any danger as long as she had Mary with her.

So, instead, she painted a vibrant picture of the Sanditon regatta, going into great detail about the children’s sandcastle competition, the men’s boat races, the lavish food and drink at the luncheon tents, and the colourful dresses and attire the visitors from London’s _beau monde_ had worn for the day. Her letter would contain enough general news to satisfy her parents, and enough colour to entertain her siblings, to whom Charlotte knew her father read her letters out.

As she wrote, she wondered what her family would make of Sidney, and what it would be like if he went to Willingden to meet them. It was difficult to picture someone as worldly and sophisticated as him in her quiet little rural village. Indeed, Charlotte wondered if even she could go back to living there anymore. Willingden felt both far away and a long time ago, and in her heart of hearts she knew she had left it behind. Whatever happened now, her future did not lie in her sleepy little hamlet, but beyond, and if all matters were resolved as they hoped, with Sidney.

  
~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~

  
Mary received a reply from her brother that afternoon, saying he would call on her at Bedford Place the next morning, but Charlotte still had no word from Susan, which had begun to make her a little uneasy.

Sidney returned late, just before dinner, and one look at his face told Charlotte whatever news he had to share was not promising. She was impatient to know and had to sit on her hands not to ask him about it immediately. But he looked weary and worried and tense, and volunteered no information right then, so she said nothing for the moment. 

He was quiet during dinner, but he joined Mary and Charlotte in the back parlour afterwards instead of disappearing into his study. Pouring out glasses of brandy for everyone, he subsided into a chair the minute the women had taken their seats, and told them about his day. 

Sidney had spent the first half of his morning with Mr. Wetherby, his accountant, who had procured Tom’s records from the bank and taken him through the disastrous state of his brother’s finances. The long and short of it was that Tom had completely drained his coffers, even the money from the accounts he had set up for his children, to put towards the Sanditon venture.

Mary sat as still and silent as a statue, gripping Charlotte’s hand, which the younger woman had extended to her, as she absorbed this latest blow. She was numb with fear. There seemed to be no end to the depth of the misery that her thoughtless husband had cruelly inflicted upon his family. He was so lost to Sanditon that had not even spared a thought for his children. 

Charlotte was struck by how drawn Mary looked, and how stooped her shoulders were, as if she was carrying the weight of the whole world on them. It was clear that neither she nor Sidney, who looked equally worn, had expected matters to be quite so bad, for Tom’s betrayal to be this deep. 

She appreciated that Sidney was being honest with Mary, and with her as well, and telling them the full extent of the Parkers’ troubles. Tom had kept everyone, especially Mary, in the dark long enough. 

“As soon as the banks learn about the fire and the debt — indeed, I would be surprised if they haven’t already — they’ll want to foreclose on their loans,” Sidney explained gently. “Once they send us the notice, we’ll have about a fortnight’s time to return the money, if that. And Trafalgar House is collateral.”

Mary made a valiant effort to rally herself, though her nerves had never felt so frayed before. “What about this house or the old Parker place? Could we not sell them? That might bring us some money, would it not?”

Sidney’s expression turned deeply uncomfortable, and it alerted Mary to the fact that she was _not_ going to like whatever information he would reveal about this. She took a deep breath and gestured for him to go on, just wanting the litany of problems to end so they could focus on finding a solution once and for all.

Sidney exhaled. “Tom already sold Bedford Place and the old Parker House a year and a half ago–” 

“ _What?!_ ” 

“–to me.” Sidney finished. “He wanted money for the Sanditon venture, and he was already after me to invest more, but I didn’t want to, though I didn’t know how to tell him that. When he mentioned he was going to sell the properties, I bought them from him. That gave Tom enough money — from _me_ — and the houses stayed in the family. I know Tom is not very sentimental about things that are not Sanditon,” he added, trying not to sound irritated or critical of his brother — they had come a long way past that, and he didn’t want to upset Mary any further than he had to — “But I didn’t want to lose either house. One is my home now, the other was my home as a boy.” 

Mary felt blank with shock. Tom had taken such a huge step but he had not even informed her of it, let alone discussed it with her. She was well aware that a wife was rarely involved or had any say in the financial decisions taken for a family; it was why she had never said anything to Tom about the amount of his time, money, and energy he expended over Sanditon. But to hide information of such magnitude and import from her…. Or was it not to do with Tom hiding anything from her, but rather him not thinking she was important enough to share such things? 

Did she know her husband at all? What else had he kept from her, knowingly or not, that would come back to hurt her family, her children?

“We might indeed still have to sell one or both properties,” Sidney went on after a pause, “But Mr. Wetherby and Mr. Cartwright both advised us to wait and see the outcome of the meetings with the banks and investors. I am hoping we will not have to. Owning a house in London is an advantage we should not give away, if we can help it. We might be able to rent Bedford Place out if matters come to that, it would provide us with a source of income. As for Parker House, selling it will not help us much financially. It is located unfashionably far from the centre of Sanditon town to be of any interest to anyone. Besides, I’d hoped–”

He cut himself off, but the quick glance he shot at Charlotte immediately told Mary of his intentions. “ _Oh_.” 

The thought was sweet. She could easily picture Sidney and Charlotte making their home at the old Parker House. She suspected it was exactly the sort of life they wanted — somewhere cosy together and away from the bustle of people and society. They would be very happy there.

Charlotte, who hadn’t caught the byplay, frowned in confusion.

“It is large enough to accommodate all the Parkers, should the need arise,” Sidney hastily explained to her. It was not a lie — things might well come to that — but he set aside the real reason for now. As much as he had already begun to picture his and Charlotte’s married life together, he knew not to build castles in the sky when the rug could still be yanked out from under his feet. They could be certain of nothing until they cleared the matter of the debt first.

Sidney explained that had then set up appointments for the next day with two banks as well as two or three investors. He tried not to be pessimistic, but he was not very hopeful about the banks. He had already once attempted requesting them to extend credit on behalf of Tom, and they had refused. There was little chance they would agree to it now, especially given that it was Tom Parker’s venture that was in need of money even if it was Sidney who would be the one borrowing. 

Equally, he was worried that the banks _would_ grant them the loans, because then he would have to borrow against his own company. It was the only asset of any value the Parkers owned, other than the two remaining houses. Trafalgar House had already been mortgaged to the hilt.

Sidney and Mr. Cartwright, his man of business, had spent the rest of the day combing through his own business holdings, marking how much and which areas of it could be liquidated for ready cash in case it was needed, and taking steps to strengthen the areas they could, so that his company did not go into any loss. Sidney was responsible for his own employees, who depended on him for their wages, and unlike Tom, he had no intention of letting them suffer. And if the Parkers did not manage to raise the required amount, Sidney’s financial holdings would be their only means of income. For it was clear that, barring a miracle, Arthur’s inheritance too would have to be used towards repaying the debt, no matter how insignificant it was compared to the amount Tom owed.

Charlotte had listened quietly as Sidney explained matters, taking in everything he said. Now, she gave him a troubled frown. “Is that wise?” she asked, referring to the liquidation his business assets. “Or advisable for your company?”

“It’s wise to be prepared beforehand,” Sidney said gravely. “And we don’t have a choice. If the worst comes to pass, this is the only thing that will keep our heads above water.”


	6. Chapter 6

On their second morning in London, Charlotte was up early as usual. Having lived all her life on a farm and expected to be awake and contribute to its running, she had never been the type to sleep in except on the rare occasion. 

Her first task on coming downstairs was to check the small pile of folded notes, envelopes, and invitations in the salver that sat on the table in the entrance hall to see if she had received any messages from Susan. She knew it was early, reminded herself that barring a note coming in late last night, there was unlikely to be a reply yet. Still, the absence of any communication from her friend made her shoulders droop in disappointment. 

She let out a sigh, feeling both disheartened and irritated. Then she shook her head, took a deep breath, and straightened her shoulders. Most of fashionable society hardly ever woke up this early, and it would likely be noon before she heard from Susan. There was no need to worry yet. She just needed to be patient. 

Trying to will only positive thoughts into her mind, she headed off to have breakfast. Mrs. Mullins, the housekeeper, had told her the previous day that breakfast was always ready at an earlier hour at Bedford Place than other fashionable London households because one could never know when Mr. Parker might need to leave early to deal with his numerous business affairs.

All of Charlotte’s dismal thoughts were entirely forgotten when she entered the breakfast parlour to find only Sidney there, dressed and ready for the day, helping himself to some eggs from one of the several serving dishes and warming pans on the sideboard. 

They both froze for a moment when they caught sight of each other. With the exception of the butler, Merridew, who looked in every now and then to ensure that the master of the house and his guests were properly served, Charlotte and Sidney were alone for the first time in what felt like forever. It was not something either of them had expected, and she suddenly felt shy around him, and she could see that he too seemed to be somewhat similarly affected. But then he gave her a sweet, boyish smile that lit up his eyes, happy to see her, and nodded her in.

She noticed he seemed to be well rested and in much better spirits than she’d expected, given the dismal news he’d shared the previous night, and this unexpectedly calmed her own restlessness. Which was a strange thought on its own, considering Sidney was the reason behind all of the tumultuous emotions she had experienced this summer. It was odd to think that his presence was now soothing her instead of riling her up.

As she moved to serve herself a couple of slices of toast from the sideboard, it struck her that although they had confessed their love for each other and were engaged, they were still far from used to spending time alone together. Their courtship, if one could even call it that, had been extremely short and unconventional, considering they had bickered their way through most of it. She knew the kind of man Sidney was — good, steady, loyal; she loved him, and she would marry him. But there was so much she had yet to learn about the man himself. How did he take his tea? What was his favourite food? Was he an early riser, like her, or did he prefer to sleep in?

She had not noticed any particular habits or quirks, unless you counted the fact that he often went sea bathing. Then she remembered what had happened the time she had stumbled upon him at the coves, and just the memory of the incident was enough to make her face erupt in a fierce blush. Her plate wobbled in her hand, almost sending the toast sliding off, and as she righted it, she tried to force that particular image out of her mind, or she would never be able to look him in the eye again.

Charlotte had been right in guessing that Sidney too was afflicted by a sudden bout of shyness around her, but she could not know how flustered her unexpected appearance made him. He was acutely aware of her presence, her skin rose and gold and flushed in the morning sunlight slanting in through the windows, the white muslin dress gracefully embracing her curves. Having her so close in the flesh when just a few short hours ago she’d been reigning over his dreams was enough to make him quite completely befuddled. 

He couldn’t think of a single thing to say to her, his usual eloquence nowhere to be found. And as he did not want a repeat of the clifftop walk, where he had nervously blathered on like an addle-pated fool, he stayed quiet.

She settled into the chair to the left of his own, which was at the head of the table, and he poured her a cup of tea. And for the next few moments, there was silence other than the clink of cutlery on plates. 

With neither Mary nor the children present, they had each other to themselves, and they couldn’t help the shy glances and smiles they exchanged. It felt delightfully cosy and domestic, despite the silence, which was charged but not uncomfortable. It gave them a glimpse of what life might be like for them after they married — quiet mornings with no need for words, just the pleasure and the thrill of each other’s company. And it was a relief not to have to think of their current circumstances, to take some time for themselves, just for a little bit.

Eventually, Charlotte, having cast around in her mind for a safe, neutral topic, brought up the Parker children and began telling Sidney about their visit to Bedford Park the previous morning. He grasped the topic with evident relief, laughing with her as she described Henry’s antics. 

From there, the conversation wandered to other, more trivial matters, and they gradually relaxed in each other’s company, the nervousness melting away.

  
~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~

  
At precisely eleven o’clock, a few hours after Sidney had left for his appointments for the day, the butler announced the arrival of Mr. Martin Blake, Mary’s brother.

Charlotte watched as Mary leapt to her feet when he entered the room, her happiness and pleasure at seeing him quite evident. She knew they were meeting after many years, and the way brother and sister tightly embraced showed they had deeply missed each other.

Mary made the introductions, and Charlotte gave him a welcoming smile as she greeted him. Alicia, Jenny, and Henry, though, were rather shy before this uncle who they neither knew very well nor had met many times, and clustered around their mother and Charlotte’s skirts. She saw the sadness in both Mary and Mr. Blake’s eyes at this being the case.

From what she had learnt about him from Mary, Charlotte knew Martin Blake was about Sidney’s age. He had a kind face and kind eyes, and hair the same shade of blond as Mary’s; you could easily see the resemblance between the two siblings.

Like Sidney, Martin gave off the air of being quiet and serious, more prone to listening while in a crowd than to speaking. But unlike Sidney, whose presence could not be ignored no matter how much he kept to himself in a corner or how quiet he stayed, Charlotte rather felt that Martin’s unassuming nature and mild disposition might cause one to easily overlook him. In that, he was much like Mary; through her days staying with the Parkers in Trafalgar House, Charlotte had noticed her hostess often tended to be relegated to the sidelines while her exuberant husband enjoyed the limelight.

Charlotte stayed with Mary and Mr. Blake until the children had the chance to warm to their uncle a little, and brother and sister caught each other up with news and developments of their family and friends. Mary also told Martin of how they had come to be acquainted with Charlotte in the first place, and how she had come with them to Sanditon to spend the summer. 

“I hate the thought of you in any danger, Mary, but it seems to have turned out quite propitiously,” Martin commented when he heard the full story of the Parkers’ carriage accident near Willingden. 

Eventually, knowing that Mary needed to talk to Martin, Charlotte took the children out into the back garden of Bedford Place so they could play.

“Are you here alone in town, Mary?” Martin asked once Charlotte and the children had left. “With your houseguest? 

“Of course not. We came with Sidney. He and Charlotte are engaged.” 

“Ah.”

“Sidney sends his apologies that he cannot be here to meet you. He is out dealing with matters pertaining to our reason for being here in London.”

Martin said nothing, just tilted his head slightly, indicating for her to go on. 

Mary didn’t know how or where to begin.

Martin frowned and leaned forward, and took Mary’s hand in his. “What is the matter, sister? You have gone pale.”

To the shock of both of them, Mary suddenly started to weep, hot, heartbreaking tears rolling down her cheeks as she struggled to compose herself. Truly alarmed, her brother shot out of his chair to kneel before hers, pressing her hands between his as he tried to soothe her.

It was a few moments before Mary managed to quieten, as the pressure of the worry built up over the past few days released a little. She couldn’t cry in front of Sidney or Charlotte, not when Tom’s ineptitude already meant they — especially Sidney, though Charlotte wouldn’t see it as any less hers even if she wasn’t officially part of the family yet — were saddled with a responsibility that wasn’t theirs to begin with. But with her own brother, Mary could cry a little for herself and even for her husband, though she didn’t think Martin would understand the last. Not that she blamed him; Tom’s actions were outrageous and nothing could excuse them.

Mary sat up straight, wiping her tears on the handkerchief Martin had swiftly produced from his pocket. She got up and walked to the large windows that looked out on to the back garden. Charlotte was out there with the children, her and Alicia’s heads bent close together over what seemed to be a particularly fascinating flower, while Jenny and Henry chased each other around, shrieking madly. It struck Mary just how much her children adored Charlotte, and how affectionate she in turn was to them. And how threatened they all were by her husband’s actions. 

She couldn’t even begin to describe the guilt she felt at not reining him in before. She had told Charlotte back when she had first arrived in Sanditon, as advice from an older woman to a younger one who would no doubt soon be looking for a husband herself, that marriage was very much about making allowances for one’s spouse. But if Mary hadn’t so easily pardoned Tom every single time for his failure to fulfil his obligations, if she had confronted him about his irresponsibility and his complete disregard for other people when it came to his obsession, then maybe her family would not be facing such dire times today.

Keeping her back to her brother, and as calmly and composedly as she could, Mary narrated the events that had led to them being in London. 

As she spoke, she didn’t need to look to know that Martin’s face would be changing from worried to furious to horrified. As she reached the end of her recounting, she felt her brother come up behind her. He was silent for a moment. Then,

“Mary… what– how– _eighty thousand_?” His voice had dropped to an appalled whisper.

When she turned around, Mary saw the shock in his eyes at the astronomical amount, as well as the reproach for Tom.

“Yes, that was my reaction as well.”

“But– but–” He floundered. “ _Mary_.” He paused again for a moment as the enormity of it all sank in, then shook himself. “How can I help?”

“I do not know.” Mary wrung the handkerchief she still held in her hands. “Sidney is dealing with banks and investors, but I do not know what will come of it. I know he has tried before to get the banks to extend Tom’s credit, but to no avail. I hardly think they will show any mercy now, with such high amounts to be recovered.” 

“I could try to get a loan–”

“No!”

“I could, really. But I’m afraid it won’t be a very high amount. I don’t have anything quite as valuable as Parker to put up as security.”

“No, Martin, I forbid it! You must not borrow on Tom’s behalf. We have quite enough debt already, I will not have you jeopardise your financial situation as well. It’s bad enough that Sidney and Arthur must be part of this.”

The siblings exchanged silent, helpless looks. 

“I will make enquiries, Mary. Let me see what I can find. And I should talk to Sidney. He might have a better idea of how I can help.”

Mary nodded. “Yes, he would welcome that.” She squeezed her brother’s hand. “Thank you, Martin.”

“There’s no need to thank me, you know that.” He held on to her hand, feeling it tremble in his. He had never seen his sister look so frail before. He’d always thought her one of the strongest women he knew.

He hesitated. “And where is Tom in all of this? What is he doing?”

Mary’s face shuttered. 

“ _Mary_.”

“Tom is in Sanditon.”

“Doing _nothing_ while his wife and brother come to London to look for a way to bail him out of a disaster he created?”

Mary spoke with great difficulty. “It is the wisest course of action.”

“How?” Martin demanded angrily. “What sort of man dooms his family to debt and then abdicates all responsibility to his wife?”

“Tom can do nothing!” Mary cried. “He has no connections or resources in London, and the banks will not see him. I could not allow him to come.”

“For fear that he would worsen the situation?” 

From Mary’s expression, Martin guessed he had correctly hit on the actual reason.

Mary turned away and moved back to the window. “Tom has no head for business. The decisions he has taken in the past months and years have been detrimental to the family’s fortunes. Most of them were done without my knowledge as my husband did not see it fit to reveal those matters to me. I could not risk him hurting the family any further.”

There was an uneasy silence.

“I know you do not have a very high opinion of him,” Mary said stiffly. “You made your dislike of him quite clear when I married him.”

“I don’t _dislike_ him, Mary,” Martin let out a long, deep sigh of frustration. “And neither did I back then. I admire his enthusiasm, and I always have. But even all those years ago, he was zealous about Sanditon. It was all he spoke of, to the exclusion of everything else. How could I not help but wonder if he was a good match for you, when even back then he seemed to put you second to his town?”

Mary remembered being fascinated and charmed by Tom’s enthusiasm, his many plans and goals and dreams for his town and its people. She had not expected to have to take second place to Sanditon almost right from the beginning. She’d told Charlotte that it was exhausting to be Tom’s second wife, but she had never allowed herself to talk about how lonely and neglected he had made her feel. Somehow, it had felt like she was betraying Tom.

Martin did not stay long after their conversation, particularly after the slightly unpleasant turn it had taken. He had no wish to add to his sister’s agony, and he could not be sure of being able to hold back on the censure he felt for his brother-in-law, which would only distress Mary further. 

Promising to make enquiries and speak to Sidney to see how he could help, Martin pressed a kiss to Mary’s cheek — at least that brought a small smile to her face — and took his leave. 


	7. Chapter 7

Charlotte had stayed with Mary to greet Mr. Blake when he arrived. But she took the children out to the back garden of Bedford Place after a while so that Mary could speak to her brother undisturbed. She let the children play as she sat on the bench and watched, wanting to be alone with her thoughts, interrupted only sometimes by one of the children running up to show her something they found particularly fascinating. 

By now, Charlotte had begun to feel extremely restless. She had wanted to come to London to help Sidney, and had unexpectedly got her wish. But so far, she felt as if she had been of no use at all. 

She still had not heard back from Susan, her one avenue by which she might have been able to help the Parkers. She thought she’d done a good job of hiding her vexation at the lack of any communication from her friend, but Sidney had noticed. And he’d promised her he’d make enquiries as to Lady Susan’s whereabouts. It was possible, he reasoned, that she might not be in London, and so might not have even seen Charlotte’s message yet. This explanation made sense, and while she still felt a little impatient, it eased her worries a bit.

But Charlotte hated being idle and feeling useless, like she felt now. She had more than her share of duties back in Willingden, both farm chores as well as in helping her father manage the estate. And in Sanditon, she had helped Tom by organising his papers and being his assistant. If not that, there was always something to do and see — visit the construction site and see the buildings take shape, visit Georgiana, or go for walks on the cliffs or on the beach.

But in London, she was coming to the realisation that there wasn’t much she could directly do in order to help the Parkers. She did not have the knowledge, the money, or the connections, and it frustrated her that she couldn’t think of any other solution. Unfortunately, with a problem such as this one, planning a regatta-like event was not the answer. 

How would Sidney react when he realised that after all of Charlotte’s promises and insistence on helping, she had nothing to show for it? 

She remained lost in her thoughts in this manner for the rest of the morning and throughout lunch. The children were not distraction enough, and Mary seemed subdued after Mr. Blake left.

There was still nothing in particular for her to do that afternoon, and she found herself wandering the house after lunch. She was familiar with some areas of it, having stayed at Bedford Place on her previous visit to London, though she had neither seen nor taken in much of it at the time. Her mind had been rather overwhelmed by its owner instead.

Now, she strolled through the rooms, pausing whenever she saw something that caught her interest. Morning room, parlours, dining room, drawing rooms. There was no ballroom, as the house wasn’t big enough to accommodate one. But the two large drawing rooms shared a wall made entirely of panelled doors that could be opened up to create one large room, big enough to entertain a respectably sized party.

Charlotte let her gaze dwell on the paintings in their gilded frames. Many of them were seascapes, which told her Sidney had never been as detached from his seaside hometown as he led people to believe. Despite his distance, a connection remained. 

Two portraits in the family parlour caught her eye. It was not difficult to guess they were the Parker siblings’ parents, both of whom had died well over a decade ago. It was obvious this artist was far more talented than the one who had painted Sidney’s portrait that hung in Trafalgar House. There was a definite likeness between the woman in the first portrait and Diana, while the man Charlotte understood to be Parker père resembled Sidney far more than the depiction in the Trafalgar House painting did.

Already she preferred the clean lines and classic décor of Bedford Place to the slightly garish opulence of Trafalgar House. With its overly decorated walls, and an abundance of sculpture busts and objets d’art littered everywhere, Trafalgar House could feel a little pretentious. Bedford Place, on the other hand, had a comfortableness about it despite being a stylish London townhouse.

The library was easily her favourite place in the whole house — a large, cosy room richly panelled in wood, with a marble fireplace and comfortable upholstered armchairs and settees. All its walls were lined with floor-to-ceiling shelves, punctuated only by large windows, and packed with books. She could easily imagine Sidney relaxing here after work or after dinner, sprawled in one of the comfortable armchairs, drink in hand, enjoying a book. 

A narrow door set between two bookshelves connected the library to Sidney’s study, which was a complete contrast to Tom’s back in Sanditon. Documents and ledgers were neatly stacked on the large desk or lined up in shelves, not lying scattered loosely and disorganised on every available surface. 

Charlotte ran her fingers over the back of the imposing chair, taking in the assortment of objects on the desk — tall white candles in robust holders, trays with notes and missives, an inkwell, pens, a blotter, a couple of random knickknacks, and–

She stopped in surprise. For lying on the desk, in front of a beautiful and intricately carved wooden box, was a pair of _her gloves_ along with a handful of seashells. 

She stared. They were her gloves, she’d recognise them anywhere. She had lost them the day she ran into Sidney at the coves, many weeks ago. She must have dropped them when she’d run away from the spot as fast as possible, trying not to drown in her own mortification. These were one of her two regular pairs, and as sorry as she’d been to lose them, she had not dared to go back near the coves to look for them over the next couple of days. And when she finally did muster up enough courage to venture there, there had been no sign of them.

She couldn’t even in her wildest imagination have thought she’d find them on Sidney’s desk in London, although there was only one obvious explanation to how they got here. She couldn’t fathom why Sidney hadn’t returned them to her before, or even mentioned them. Had he retrieved them after she’d dropped them, but forgotten to give them back to her? Or had he deliberately kept them with him all this while, like a token or a favour? Was that why he had picked up the seashells as well? 

Unable to even begin to guess at Sidney’s intentions, she decided to leave the gloves where they were for now; she would ask him about them later. 

Instead, she imagined him sitting at his desk, working, his brows furrowed in concentration the way they were wont to do as he scrutinised some contract or pored over a sheet of figures relating to some or other aspect of his business.

Bedford Place would likely be her future home, she realised. When she and Sidney married, he would want to live in London; it was his home after all and he had his business and a life here. 

A small part of her wasn’t quite sure how she felt about that. Whatever she had seen of the capital on her one previous visit — both the seedy as well as the respectable parts — had done nothing to enamour it to her. But then again, she had seen such a minuscule portion of it. And in the end, where they lived hardly mattered. She would go to the ends of the earth if it meant being with Sidney, so London would hardly be a hardship. 

  
~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~

  
Sidney returned earlier than expected that evening. Charlotte was in the garden once again, playing with the children when she heard her name being called, and turned to see him striding across the lawn towards her.

The children, of course, mobbed their favourite uncle, Henry running towards him and launching himself into Sidney’s arms, forcing him to swing the child up. The girls followed, chattering away excitedly, Jenny pulling Charlotte along by the hand to join them.

It took a little time to get the children to return to their games — Jenny and Henry wanted to show Sidney a frog in the little pond in the garden, and in the end, all five of them ended up crouched at the side of the pond, watching it with rapt fascination. Eventually, the children went back to playing, and Sidney led Charlotte to the garden bench.

Once they were seated, he fished out a sealed letter from the pocket of his waistcoat, and, much to Charlotte’s amusement, handed it to her with a small flourish.

“It’s from Susan!” she exclaimed, ripping it open. “At last!” Her eyes rapidly skimmed over the elegant handwriting. “She _was_ away from London. She has invited me to visit her tomorrow morning!” 

The relief was so huge that Charlotte laughed out loud, hugging the letter to her chest. It earned her a chuckle from Sidney, but she could see that he too looked relieved. 

Sidney had been privately sceptical about Lady Worcester’s interest in Charlotte, a suspicion that had deepened when there had been no reply from her to Charlotte’s message. But he’d told himself to give her the benefit of the doubt, and was glad he’d done so, because Charlotte’s mind was certainly at ease now.

“Babbers sent word too.” He showed her another note. “He is arriving in London tonight, and I am to meet him tomorrow around noon. I have a couple of appointments before that… perhaps I could drop you off at Lady Worcester’s first?”

Charlotte beamed at him in response. “Yes, of course.”

They didn’t know how much their friends could help them, but it was nevertheless a huge boost. With Lady Worcester and Lord Babington’s connections, surely some new avenue might show itself, some solution might be found. 

“How did it go with the banks?” She ventured to ask

Sidney’s tired sigh and shake of the head was answer enough. “No luck.”

“Don’t worry,” she said fiercely, “I’m sure Susan and Lord Babington will have some idea of how to help us. We must not lose hope, Sidney, I will not allow it!”

It seemed impossible after the day he’d had, but Charlotte’s determination brought a smile to his face. In her, he had truly found an equal partner who would not let him shoulder any burden by himself.

There was a pause, where Charlotte sensed there was more to come. Sidney’s eyes were on the children playing nearby, but she could tell from the his slight frown that his mind was elsewhere.

“Has something happened?” she asked, touching his wrist.

He exhaled deeply. “Did you tell Georgiana about our engagement?” 

“Yes…” 

It was in the midst of the tumult of packing to come to London that Charlotte had remembered Georgiana did not know about the latest developments, including that Sidney had asked her to marry him and that she had said yes. She’d hesitated for a moment, wondering if she should tell her about it in the first place. In their last conversation, Georgiana had vehemently insisted Charlotte could not trust Sidney and that he would only ever make her unhappy. But she did not want to hide anything from her friend, and Georgiana would be very hurt if she heard about it from Arthur or Diana or Tom, or anyone other than Charlotte herself. 

Since she didn’t have the time for a visit, she’d dashed off a quick note, which she had asked one of the footmen to deliver to Mrs. Griffith’s lodgings. She’d decided not to divulge anything about the debt and the lack of insurance; that was not her news to share. Instead, she had said Sidney had urgent business in London and that she, Mary, and the children were accompanying him. With luck, Georgiana would think Mary wanted to get a head start on Charlotte and Sidney’s wedding preparations. Unfortunately, Charlotte had an idea of how her friend might react to the news; she hadn’t received a reply from Georgiana yet, and that was answer enough.

“Should I not have told her?” she asked Sidney now, worried. 

“No, no. On the contrary, I’m glad you did. Thank you.” He gave her a smile. “I confess, the shock of Tom’s troubles drove most other matters from my mind. I should have told her myself, but I hoped coming from you, the news might be more welcome. Sadly, it isn’t. I received a letter from Arthur this morning. He visited Georgiana yesterday, and says she is very angry and upset about our engagement. Not just with me, but with you as well.”

Charlotte slumped a little on the bench, dejected. “She was _not_ pleased when she learnt that I might have developed a… _tendre_ for you.”

“Yes, she confronted me at the midsummer ball about my intentions towards you. She said she did not trust me not to ruin your happiness.”

“She told me I cannot trust a word you say.”

She watched as his shoulders slumped in resignation as he stared off into the distance. 

“Sidney,” Charlotte said hesitantly after a pause, knowing she was broaching a sensitive subject that she had never spoken about to him before. “I do not mean to pry, but– well, it feels as if there is more to Georgiana’s anger towards you than… recent events.” 

She’d tried speaking of this to Georgiana but had received no explanation, only more vague warnings about how a man like Sidney cannot change and that he would only hurt her.

“Nothing you ask me will ever be prying,” Sidney said, reaching for her hand. “As for Georgiana’s anger against me,” he sighed. “I’m afraid that goes back to when we were in Antigua.”

“Because you were involved in– in the sugar trade, do you mean?”

“That’s certainly a part of it.”

“What other reason could there be?”

“Georgiana’s father, Reginald Lambe, was a good mentor and business partner. In the time I knew him, I came to regard him almost like a father myself, and I think he too saw me as a son. Losing him was… difficult. But I’m afraid that might have made Georgiana think her father was fonder of me as a surrogate son than he was of her as his own daughter. I believe she feels I usurped her place in her father’s life, and that’s why she resents me.” 

“Did you?”

“Of course not. But I suppose I can see why she feels I did. Lambe loved Georgiana, but he was not an attentive father to her. I didn’t think anything of it because that is what most fathers are like, are they not? Expecting children to be brought up by nannies and governesses and tutors, to be kept out of sight unless they are needed?” 

Charlotte couldn’t say she knew; even with twelve children, her own father had never been distant with any of them, daughter or son. But was that how Sidney’s father had been with his children?

“From what I understand,” Sidney continued, “his inattentiveness towards Georgiana worsened after her mother died, shortly before I arrived in Antigua. Georgiana was about nine years old when I came to stay at the plantation, but I didn’t see much of her in the first few years, though I worked extensively with her father.” 

“How did you come to stay with them?”

“Lambe saved my life, in more ways than one. I was badly injured in a–” he hesitated “–in a disagreement soon after I arrived in St. John’s, and he took me back to his estate so I could recover.”

Charlotte knew from Georgiana that Sidney participated in boxing matches and even the occasional underground fighting bout, but somehow this did not sound like the same thing at all. She wondered what had happened, and just how badly hurt he had been to need time to recover and someone to nurse him back to health. 

“While I recovered, Lambe told me about his plantation. He wanted someone to help him manage it — a junior partner of sorts, I suppose.” Sidney’s lips twisted wryly. “And there I was, young and foolish, with no idea of what I wanted to do and no real plans for the future.” 

Charlotte squeezed his hand. “Not foolish.”

He had been very young, even younger than she was now. And not foolish, but freshly heartbroken, with all his hopes and dreams for his future crushed by a vile woman’s thoughtless actions.

Sidney’s eyes were dark — old memories could still hurt. He roused himself out of his thoughts and gave her a wan smile.

“The reason I agreed to work with him was because he wanted to free all the slaves working on his estate, just like he had freed Georgiana’s mother before he married her. But it was no small undertaking, which is why he wanted a partner — he wanted someone to help him see it done properly. Just setting them all free wouldn’t be enough. Their safety and lodgings and livelihood had to be seen to as well, or they’d have no money, no homes, and would starve to death.”

“Was that when you renounced the sugar trade?”

He nodded. “Not long after.”

He had wanted out of the sugar trade almost as soon as he’d agreed to work with Lambe. Just because they had freed the enslaved people on the plantation, paid them wages, and made improvements to their working conditions, it did not mean the work was not gruelling and dangerous. 

If Sidney had hoped that helping to free the slaves would bring him some measure of peace after being so brutally thrown over by Eliza, the guilt of knowing he’d profited at their expense had crushed his soul. 

“Our money came from the… exploitation of other people. I cannot deny I had a part in it.” He looked down at her hand that he held in his, his fingers tightening around hers for a moment, as if afraid she would pull away. “You were right that my fortune is tainted with the stain of slavery.”

Sidney looked wretched, but Charlotte didn’t know what to say. She sensed he’d never spoken to anyone before about his life in Antigua, and that it troubled him enough that he needed to talk to someone about it. She was touched that she was the one he was choosing to share it and unburden himself with. 

“My uncle — my father’s brother — died,” he continued after a pause. “He had never married and had no children, so he named me his heir. He left me a not insignificant sum of money and his shipping company. So, I used this chance to leave the sugar trade and start my own import and export business. But I still lived with the Lambes on their estate and helped Reginald where I could.

“How long were you in Antigua?” Charlotte asked.

“Seven years. I came back to England two years ago.”

“Why did you decide to return?”

As the years passed, things had begun to change in Antigua. Abolitionism gained traction, and some of the other estates had begun freeing their slaves as well. But many plantation owners were opposed to this, and the enslaved people on their estates had begun to rebel, to fight for their freedom. It hadn’t been safe for anybody, but it had been particularly unsafe for Georgiana because of her mixed heritage. She wasn’t looked upon too kindly by either side, especially as she was a wealthy heiress. So, Reginald Lambe had decided to bring her back to London. He’d wanted her to complete her education and take her place in polite society. 

“As for me, I was ready to leave. Antigua had at the same time been paradise as well as hell on earth. I think I wanted to put it behind me.”

“But… Georgiana’s father died before he returned to England, did he not?” she asked.

“Yes.” Sidney hadn’t expected the hurt to be just as acute after all these years. “A few weeks before we were supposed to set sail, Lambe became ill with a particularly virulent form of consumption. He realised he did not have long to live, and that he’d be dead long before our ship reached England. So he made his will and the papers bequeathing his entire fortune to Georgiana, and named me her guardian until she turned twenty-one. He made arrangements for the two of us to go back to England. 

“Georgiana was most upset — about losing him and about having to leave Antigua. She begged him to let her stay back with her mother’s family. But Lambe thought she’d be safer in England, and didn’t give in no matter how much she protested. He remained distant from her right until the end, expecting her to obey him and do as he instructed.” 

He took in a deep, shuddering breath.

“He was also in much pain in his final days, and refused to let her see him in that state. I and the servants tending to him, we tried to do as he asked, but it would have been cruel to keep Georgiana from her father when they had such little time left. At the same time, we couldn’t let her be around him for too long; no one could. Consumption spreads easily, and we could not risk her or anyone else falling prey to it. So, Georgiana blames me for trying to keep her apart from her father while he was on his deathbed.” 

“Oh, Sidney!” Charlotte’s heart twisted at the pain in his dark eyes as much as it did for Georgiana. They had both suffered, both lost someone they cared for very deeply, and instead of turning to each other for support, they had become adversaries. And although Charlotte did not fault Sidney for having to keep Georgiana away from her father because of his illness, she found she could not blame her young friend either for her anger. Her heart ached for how heartbroken Georgiana must have been at her own father’s treatment.

He rubbed a hand over his tired face. “My own actions after I became her guardian did nothing to endear me to her, but I didn’t care about that until you made me see the error of my ways. Her father had entrusted her to my guardianship, which I took to mean protecting her and her inheritance from fortune hunters, and seeing that she learnt to behave like a lady. I had no intention of failing Lambe.”

The truth was, Sidney had seen Georgiana as an obligation, a responsibility he did not want. Charlotte had been correct in saying that he should have watched over her himself, and not abdicated the responsibility to other people. But Georgiana’s own behaviour — wilful, wayward, difficult — and her hostility towards him did not endear her to him.

It was only after Charlotte’s words to him in London that he had realised how lonely Georgiana had been, with no one to care for her, not even her guardian, who should have been the first. In hindsight, it was no wonder Georgiana rebelled so much against his authority. Her own father had neglected her, and not respected her wishes on any matter, and after he’d become her guardian, Sidney had done the same. 

“When we returned to London, I rented a house for her just down the road from Bedford Place, with a governess and a few servants. But it was difficult to find trustworthy companions for her. Some of the governesses I interviewed refused the job when they learnt of her race. Others weren’t really concerned about her welfare, just interested in the money that the job would bring them. And Georgiana hated all of it. Then came Otis Molyneux. I thought at first it was a good match, they seemed to be well suited. Until I discovered his extensive gambling debts. In my mind, there was no other conclusion to be drawn other than the obvious one. So I thought it best to separate them, and brought her to Sanditon. And… well, you know the rest.”

They sat in silence for a while, Charlotte thinking over everything she’d just learnt, and Sidney dreading her reaction.

“Do you think badly of me?” he asked when he could bear her silence no longer. 

“It is… rather a lot to take in. Her father’s neglect and your actions have hurt her. But no, I don’t think badly of you.” 

Sidney let out a trembling breath and closed his eyes briefly. If she didn’t think badly of him, then there was still hope.

He felt her take both his hands in hers and opened his eyes, finding her watching him with a kindness and understanding he had not expected.

“You have been trying to make amends, have you not? And I know you are an honourable man. You might have easily used her fortune to pay off your brother’s debts–”

“I won’t touch a penny of her money!” Sidney burst out, aghast and appalled. “Charlotte! It is not mine to–” 

“I know, Sidney, I know! But any other guardian might have, would they not?” 

He said nothing but his distaste at the very thought of using Georgiana’s money — of betraying Reginald Lambe’s faith in him — was tangible across his face.

“It will take time; you cannot expect her to forgive you right away. But you have to show Georgiana you care about her.” Charlotte shifted on the garden bench as she turned to face him. “Think about how she must feel. You are her guardian and the closest thing she has to family, and I suspect I am her only friend in Sanditon. Now that we are engaged, she must feel like she’s losing the only two people in the world who show some regard for her, to each other. She must feel so alone and forgotten, and she doesn’t have Otis to turn to, either.” 

She waited, watched as Sidney considered her words, seemingly entirely unaware of how he was nervously fiddling with her fingers, which he still held. 

He finally looked at her, a little uncertain. “Would you mind if she lived with us after we are married? We could give her a home, a family, you and I?”

“Oh Sidney! Do you truly mean that?”

“Yes. If that is what Georgiana wants, of course.”

Overjoyed, Charlotte threw her arms around his neck and hugged him tightly, before swiftly pulling back, shocked at her own actions and blushing from acute embarrassment. She had just embraced him in front of the children and anyone who might be watching from the house! 

Sidney could not help but laugh — she looked so adorable and pink-cheeked, and her spontaneous gesture of affection swelled his heart with love. 

He felt lighter than he had in years, as if a great, inescapable weight had been lifted from his shoulders. He had never spoken to anyone about Antigua before, but was not surprised he’d so easily shared his story with Charlotte. And he truly was sincere in his desire to make amends with his ward, which was also because Charlotte had opened his eyes to how he had fallen short as Georgiana’s guardian. All these years, after all his experiences, he’d stopped believing he could change, be a better person. Until Charlotte. With her, he truly could be his best and truest self.

Charlotte met his gaze, smiling shyly, and Sidney could not help but move closer — surely he was allowed _one_ kiss, they _were engaged_ , after all! He leaned in, his intentions clear, and her eyes widened.

“Uncle Sidney!”

“Charlotte!”

The thundering of small feet running up to them snapped them out of their private bubble.

“Come and play with us!” Alicia demanded, reaching them first and throwing herself into Charlotte’s lap in a heap.

“Can you show us how to make paper boats, Uncle Sidney?” Jenny’s hazel eyes were beseeching. 

Henry tugged his uncle’s sleeve. “Can we have another sea battle? And can we _win_ this time?” 

Sidney sighed, then mock-frowned at Charlotte when she smothered a laugh.

“I don’t know, Henry,” he said as he got to his feet. “Do you think we can defeat Admiral Heywood? Or perhaps we should ask her to be on our side this time?”

“Noooo!” Alicia and Jenny protested shrilly, the latter tugging Charlotte up from the bench.

The two grown-ups allowed themselves to be dragged to the pond, all three children talking excitedly over each other. But Sidney’s hand found Charlotte’s, and he interlaced his fingers with hers for a few brief, sweet moments. 

They faced uncertain, difficult days ahead. But at this moment, he was content.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for the delay, folks — work has taken over everything! I’m super thankful to have my job, but sadly it leaves little to no time for writing during the week, which means trying to squeeze in time for it on the weekends with everything else. Which is a shame because I love writing, and want nothing more than to devote time to this story. Being an adult with responsibilities sucks.
> 
> For everyone who is still reading, thank you so much for your patience and for staying with the story, and for all the awesome comments so far! I really do appreciate each and every one of you, and I’m glad that you’re enjoying it!

* * *

Receiving word from Lord Babington and Lady Worcester certainly breathed new life into the Parkers’ and their houseguest’s flagging spirits. On their third morning in London, Charlotte and Sidney found themselves alone once more, this time in the Parker carriage as it carried them to Mayfair. 

Less shy than the previous morning at being alone together but apprehensive about the developments their respective days would bring, they said little, but sat next to each other in the carriage and held hands all the way from Bedford Place to Worcester House.

About halfway through the journey, Sidney reached out with his free hand to stop Charlotte’s fingers from tugging and twisting the ribbons of her bonnet, which she’d been doing for the past five minutes at least. 

“Oh!” She let go of the ribbons immediately, her eyes widening as she tried to smooth them out. “I must confess I didn’t expect to feel so… nervous.”

“It’s only Lady Worcester,” he assured her, trying to ease the trepidation he could see all over her face, before they both realised what he’d said.

They burst out laughing at the same time at the unintended absurdity of his words — there was nothing “only” about Lady Worcester.

“You have no reason to be nervous,” he reminded her as their chuckles eased. “I’ll admit I was a little suspicious of her friendship with you at first. Lady Worcester is one of the great ladies of London society, and is always being put upon by people hoping for favours from her. She is not usually the first to make any overtures of friendship. But she obviously considers you a particular friend. It is well known that she invites very few people to her home unless she hosts a ball, and even then only those whom she holds high in her esteem.”

“It is not that I am anxious about meeting Susan. But if she has no suggestions to how we might proceed, nor whom we might approach, then I have no notion of how else I might be able to help you.”

He frowned. “Regardless of what happens with Lady Susan, I don’t expect that you will have all the answers.”

“But this is important. I want to help. I want us to be partners, Sidney.”

“Charlotte, we’re exploring every possible option we can think of. Your approaching Lady Susan is more than we could have ever dreamt of. But if nothing comes of it, I’m not going to think any less of you, no one is!”

Charlotte’s teeth worried her full lower lip in a way that was wildly distracting, but Sidney resolutely ignored it. Her big brown eyes were full of an uncertainty he’d never seen in her before. It was not like her to worry about the outcome of things before they had even happened.

“Is this what you’ve been fretting about?” he asked, turning on the seat to face her. “That Mary or I will be disappointed if you don’t have a solution to present us with?”

Charlotte sighed and shook her head. “ _I_ will be disappointed in me.”

“You have no reason to be! Charlotte, I’m not marrying you because I expect you to rescue us every time we face a difficult situation. I would like us to be equal partners too, but that doesn’t mean I expect you to provide at least half the solution to any problem.” 

“I cannot seem to help it,” she said ruefully. “I cannot imagine not helping. I’m the eldest daughter with eleven younger siblings. There’s always a little brother or sister who needs my help with schoolwork or lessons, or my mother with running the household, or my father with the management of the Willingden estate–”

“You do not need to list your accomplishments to me, madam. I am well aware of how capable my wife-to-be is.” He _adored_ the way her cheeks went pink at his words. “Were you not the one to come up with the idea for the regatta? Was it not successful because of you?”

“That was Lady Susan.”

“Who came to Sanditon only to see you. Fine. Were you not the one who saved us from ignominious defeat at the cricket match? I remember being quite roundly told off for trying to help you.”

“You _assumed_ I didn’t know how to play!” she protested immediately, “And hadn’t you just spent the whole morning sneering at me for having made assumptions about you?”

It was on his mind to tell her that his was a reasonable assumption to make — certainly no other ladies of his acquaintance knew how to play cricket. But really, he should have known better. This was Charlotte after all, who had the unnerving talent for doing exactly the thing that was most unexpected.

But he was glad to see he had diverted her thoughts from what was worrying her, that she wasn’t fretting about it anymore — so happy to see the usual liveliness return to her eyes that he almost missed what she said next.

“Besides, Mr. Stringer went easy on me, though he didn’t have to.”

Sidney felt a spurt of annoyance at the mention of the young foreman. It had not been difficult to see that the man was smitten with Charlotte. He had felt the burn of jealousy every time they had exchanged smiles during the match, particularly as he and Charlotte had still been at odds and had sniped at each other that entire morning. She had no smiles for him then.

He shook himself and came back to the conversation at hand. “You downplay your skills. You made more runs than any of the other men on the team save for me and Babington.”

She could not refute that, nor stop the impish smile that curved her lips.

“Do not dismiss your contributions, Charlotte. You have already done more for us Parkers and for Sanditon and the people of the town than all the Parkers put together.”

Now her shy smile was entirely for him. “Very well.”

She settled back again in her seat, but Sidney had no intention of sitting idle for the remainder of their journey.

“There is, however, one particular matter in which I require your help,” he said, allowing a note of levity to enter his voice.

“What is it?” she asked, curious at his suddenly almost-playful tone.

“I find myself alone in a carriage with my intended–” He drew her close to him as he spoke, “–and I have been most remiss in not taking this opportunity…” 

His voice lowered as he leant in, and its deep timbre sent a thrill of anticipation through her. 

“…to kiss her.” His voice had fallen to a husky murmur. “Perhaps you could help me remedy that?”

They were indeed very much alone, just the two of them, and Charlotte’s heart raced. There was a decidedly amorous glint in Sidney’s eyes, and she found herself leaning closer to him, as if pulled to him by an invisible thread. He was so close now, she could feel his breath on her lips. Her eyelids fell shut as his mouth closed over hers.

His lips moved against hers, gentle at first, then more insistent. He nipped at her lower lip and then soothed it with his tongue, and when her mouth opened beneath his, his tongue found and stroked against hers. How a kiss could be so sweet, so lovely, and yet make her tremble so, she did not know. It was intoxicating, as if he was promising secrets to be revealed later.

His fingers that had stayed at her chin, tilting her face up to his, now cupped her cheek while the other hand slid around her waist, pulling her close against him. Her hands rose, hovered uncertainly for a moment before settling on the dark cloth of his coat covering his chest. Her fingers gripped the lapels and tugged him closer.

“Charlotte,” he murmured her name, as if he could not help it, and kissed her ardently, gasping softly when she responded with equal fervour. He was utterly entranced by the feel of her lips against his, by the warmth of her hands on his chest through all the layers of fabric in between.

But just as the kiss started to deepen, just as they began to lose themselves in each other, the carriage came to a stop with a jerk — they had arrived at their destination. 

They broke apart and Sidney groaned against her lips. He did not want to stop kissing her. He felt like a fool for not taking more advantage of the opportunity of being alone with her. But it was for the best; Charlotte could not go to Lady Susan’s looking like she’d been ravished in the carriage. He was well aware they were already courting scandal by staying under the same roof when they were engaged. Their only saving grace was that it was not public news yet.

He leaned his forehead against hers for a moment, both of them breathing heavily, their heartbeats gradually slowing. Finally, they let go of each other, quickly putting themselves to rights, and ensuring they were presentable once again. 

He tugged at one of the curls that had escaped the simple updo in which she had done up her hair this morning. Her gown was not of the latest fashion, but it was simple and elegant — without the silly frills and furbelows that were, for reasons that escaped him, considered the height of ladies’ fashion nowadays. She could not know how very much she looked every inch a lovely young London lady.

She looked up and caught his admiring gaze, and boldly returned it, clearly appreciating his sartorial elegance. He cleared his throat, and shifted in his seat, making her grin at him.

Charlotte turned as the footman opened the carriage door, peering out of the window, and her jaw dropped at the sight of the grand mansion. Even Sidney felt a degree of awe as he took in the imposing façade, the entrance flanked by two pillars, and the wide stairs leading up to it.

“It’s only Lady Susan,” he murmured, but this time the reminder was for himself too, and she nodded.

“Good luck, Miss Heywood,” he added teasingly as a memory popped up in his mind, “although I imagine you won’t need it.”

It elicited a merry laugh from her as she remembered she had used similar words but said something entirely different to him at the cricket match.

The footman helped Charlotte descend from the carriage, and Sidney waited until she climbed the steps and was shown inside the doorway of Susan’s house before rapping the roof of the carriage to tell the driver to continue on their way. 

  
~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~

  
The full import of Susan’s wealth and position in society dawned on Charlotte as she stepped into the vast high-ceilinged entrance hall with its floor of chequered dark blue and white marble tiles. 

She had only seen Sanditon House among the stately homes of the nobility, and despite being bigger than Worcester House, Charlotte could already tell that it did not compare on any other level to Susan’s residence. Lady D’s tastes in décor and furniture came across as merely eccentric when viewed on their own. But compared to the classy opulence she could see all around her here, Sanditon House could almost be described as gaudy. 

She had just handed her bonnet to an impeccably liveried footman while the most imposing butler she had ever seen waited to escort her inside, when there was the sound of quick footsteps and Lady Worcester herself swept into the entrance hall. 

A delighted smile lit up her face at the sight of her visitor. “My dear girl!” 

“Susan!”

Susan embraced Charlotte in a tight hug that went miles in allaying any apprehensions she had about meeting her friend. 

Charlotte did not have an older sister or even an older female cousin or friend. And while Mary had certainly become like one during her stay in Sanditon, there were certain subjects — mostly Sidney-related — that Charlotte had never felt she could talk to her about. There had been times this summer when she’d longed for advice and guidance from someone more experienced than her, and she could not deny that Susan’s genuine friendship and sincere support shown in a few simple, honest words instilled in her a confidence no one else could. She had certainly never made such a close friend as quickly as Lady Worcester.

Susan pulled back and the two friends grinned at each other.

“I’m _so_ pleased to see you! Come, we have much to talk about, I imagine.”

Looping her hand through Charlotte’s, Susan lead her deeper into the house, giving her a mini-tour as they made their way towards their destination. Charlotte caught glimpses of other rooms as they walked and could not help but marvel at everything she saw, especially the large library she caught sight of through a set of open doors. The décor became less opulent as they left the main receiving rooms and ventured into the more private areas of the house, simpler but no less classy. It felt comfortable and home-like — _if one ever got used to living in such a fine home_ , Charlotte thought. 

Finally, they entered a beautiful, sunny room that was elegantly and tastefully decorated in shades of soft green and ivory. Charlotte knew instantly this must be Susan’s favourite room, where she spent most of her time. The walls were papered with a green fleur-de-lis pattern against ivory white. There were cleverly arranged settees and chaises, bookshelves lining one wall, and an elegant writing desk in one corner. As at Bedford Place, this parlour too overlooked a garden, though it was much bigger, with French windows opening onto a terrace with a manicured lawn and a large walled garden beyond with many trees. Charlotte almost felt as if she wasn’t in London anymore.

They settled down beside each other on a comfortable chaise. The housekeeper appeared almost immediately with the tea, and Susan thanked her with a gracious smile. 

“I hope you were not too anxious at not hearing back from me sooner, my dear,” she said to Charlotte once they were alone. 

“I was, a little,” Charlotte admitted honestly, colouring a little. “But only because the matter is slightly urgent, my lady. And I was afraid I had somehow imposed on your kindness. We have, after all, known each other just a fortnight.”

“ _Susan_ ,” she corrected, enjoying her young friend’s refreshing candour. “And you must never worry about overstepping any bounds when it comes to our friendship, Charlotte. I do apologise for not being able to reply sooner to your missive. I travelled to my country estate from Sanditon directly after the regatta to visit my family, and returned to London late yesterday afternoon, only to be summoned by the Prince Regent. One does not ignore a summons from Carlton House unless one has a really good reason to do so,” she added with a wry smile.

This was the first time Susan had openly acknowledged her connection with the Prince Regent to Charlotte. She remembered what Arthur and Diana had said about their relationship and blushed, but found that she did not judge Susan. She never had.

Susan seemed amused at Charlotte’s reaction. “But we shall speak of these matters in due course. Now tell me, my dear, does your urgency to see me have anything to do with the fire in Sanditon?”

“Yes.” Charlotte wasn’t surprised Susan already knew about it; Sidney had said news of it had begun circulating in London society. They could only hope no one knew yet of the insurance debacle. “The terrace building was burnt down. Unfortunately, that was not the only damage the fire did.” 

Susan had heard about the fire in Sanditon at Lady Harper’s ball that she had attended the previous evening. She had been concerned, of course, and swiftly guessed this was the matter in connection with which Charlotte Heywood had asked to meet her. She had tried to make discreet enquiries, hoping to learn more. But hardly any of the ball-goers were interested in some mishap that had occurred in some small sleepy coastal town, though many had followed Susan there only days ago for the regatta. Sanditon was last week’s fancy, and the fickle London crowd had already moved on, and though Susan had championed the town among the _haut ton_ , instinct had told her to be thankful it wasn’t in the limelight at that moment.

Now, Susan listened, engrossed, as her friend recounted the extraordinary incident — about the hours-long battle against the flames consuming the terrace and poor Mr. James Stringer’s father’s tragic death, about Tom Parker not having bought insurance for the construction works and the shockingly enormous debt he now owed, about Mary Parker’s wrath at her husband and Sidney Parker telling Charlotte she could withdraw from the engagement to protect her from disgrace and scandal–

“Engagement!” Susan interrupted, astonished.

“Oh!” Charlotte’s hand flew to her mouth, shocked and thoroughly mortified. “I cannot believe I forgot to tell you!” 

“He asked you to marry him? Charlotte! Why did you not say so before?” Delighted, Susan embraced her.

“In truth, it feels like it happened quite some time ago, and not just mere nights,” Charlotte admitted, a little embarrassed. “We haven’t told anyone yet besides the Parkers and Lord Babington. And– well– the issue of the debt has eclipsed everything else since.”

Susan studied her. “And was the proposal all you hoped for?”

The way Charlotte’s cheeks went rosy, the way her eyes sparkled with happiness told Susan what she wanted to know.

“Mr. Parker was earnest and nervous and… sweet. Oh!– and after the regatta, he told me he had decided not to return to London with Mrs. Campion. He said– he said he is his best and truest self with me.”

_Oh my_ , Susan thought. Even her experienced heart was not unaffected by such an ardent declaration. She had not expected the serious and taciturn Sidney Parker to be capable of such romance — he rose further and further in her estimate with every new detail Charlotte revealed about him. She reached out and squeezed Charlotte’s hand, wordlessly conveying her approval.

“And he offered you the chance to withdraw from the engagement when he learnt of the debt?”

“He did not want the scandal of the Parkers’ financial ruination to taint my reputation,” Charlotte said with fond exasperation.

“He tried to do the honourable thing,” Susan countered. “An admirable gesture that speaks to his character. But equally, it speaks to yours that you have decided to stand by him. I am so very happy for you, dear girl! Now,” she squeezed Charlotte’s hand, “Before you tell me absolutely _every_ thing about his proposal — and you must spare no detail! — how can I help you in the matter of the debt?”

“I was wondering — _hoping_ — that you might you might be able to provide some leads on patrons who might want to invest in the redevelopment of Sanditon?” Charlotte asked. “Most of the _beau monde_ that attended the regatta came because they followed you there. Perhaps some of them might be amenable?”

“Is that all?”

“All? It will be tremendous help! Sidn– Mr. Parker could speak to them. He has been doing little else since we came to London, but to no avail. Whoever he has met so far, they have all refused him.” 

“They have all refused him?” For a moment, Susan was distracted by this unlikely piece of news. But in her usual habit, she set it aside in a corner of her mind where she could subconsciously ruminate upon it while she focused on the problem at hand.

“Charlotte, most people would seize a mile if offered an inch of help.” Susan smiled at her fondly. “I will, of course, help you find investors. But before you approach anyone, I have a suggestion. I do wonder if your Mr. Parker wouldn’t benefit from speaking to my financial advisors. They have in-depth knowledge of these matters and I think they might be best placed to help.” She paused for a moment, thinking, then nodded decisively, especially in light of the tidbit Charlotte had revealed about Sidney Parker’s lack of luck with investors. “If you can wait a day, my dear, I can guarantee they will be able to come up with a viable plan.”

Although an additional day’s delay caused Charlotte some worry — today was already the fourth day of the week Lady Denham had granted them — they’d had no luck so far on their own. And if Susan herself consulted these financial advisors, what harm could it do to enlist their help? This was far more than she had hoped for, and she had faith in her friend. 

“Very well,” she agreed.

Susan penned a quick note right away, and asked a footman to have it delivered to her financial advisors’ address immediately. “I have asked them to meet us here tomorrow morning. You may rest assured, my dear, that with their help, we will come up with some solution to the Parkers’ situation. In fact, I think you will quite like the Abbotts,” she added cryptically, with a twinkle in her eye. “As for whom to approach about investing, I will share those names with you tomorrow as well, once we have some clarity on how our situation might progress.”

Nothing raised Charlotte’s spirits more than to hear Susan refer to it as “our situation”. She leaned forward impulsively and gave her a heartfelt hug. “I cannot thank you enough, Susan!”

“There is no need to thank me, Charlotte.” Susan said warmly. “It would be a grave injustice indeed if Tom Parker’s family and the people of Sanditon were to suffer for his foolhardy actions. And you and Sidney do not deserve to have your happiness threatened and your future ruined simply because Tom refuses to take responsibility for his own mistakes.”

Pressing matters dealt with, Susan called for luncheon. The two friends chatted all morning and into the afternoon, strolling about in the garden when they became tired of remaining indoors. Susan wanted to know everything that had happened between Charlotte and Sidney after he arrived in Sanditon for the regatta, Mrs. Campion in tow, and how they had come to be engaged. With much blushing, but glad of the chance to share the details with someone who would neither be scandalised by nor judge her thoughts and feelings, Charlotte told her all.

Susan listened patiently. 

Besides the Sanditon fire, the other _on dit_ circulating through Lady Harper’s ballroom that had been of particular interest to Susan was the one being cleverly spread by the person whom it was about herself. Mrs. Campion had dropped hints all evening about expecting to be engaged very soon to a “certain gentleman”. 

She had not explicitly said anything, of course. But Susan had caught the words “reunited”, “fate brought us back together”, “meant to be”, and all sorts of similar nonsense. She might have otherwise ignored it all if she hadn’t also heard Mrs. Campion belittle a “young village girl” she had met in Sanditon, calling her “a most amusing creature” who would “rather read books than be part of polite society” and “had the oddest notions about love and matrimony”. Luckily, Mrs. Campion had not used Charlotte’s name, likely because she was aware that doing so might ascribe her more importance than a supposedly insignificant country miss deserved. 

Susan couldn’t understand how on the one hand Eliza Campion painted a fairytale picture of a decidedly un-fairytale story of herself and Sidney Parker, while in the same breath deriding a young woman for seeking to marry for love rather than money.

But she had set aside her distaste for Mrs. Campion’s insidious behaviour and had, in her usual way, worked her magic to minimize any harm caused to Charlotte’s reputation. But Charlotte need not know any of that.

Now, at the end of her young friend’s story, she turned to her, a knowing look in her eye. “Have you any worries or misgivings, my dear?”

“No…” Charlotte hesitated. “Not really. But in some ways, it all seems too good to be true, like some sort of dream… I did not come to Sanditon looking to find love… and most definitely not to find a husband.”

“Does Mr. Parker fall short of your ideal in any manner?”

“I’m not certain I even had an ideal,” Charlotte laughed. “And if I did, Sidney would likely be the furthest from any naïve image I had in my mind.”

She paused, trying to put into words the niggling thoughts she had pushed to the back of her mind. “It is just… So much has happened in these past few weeks that my mind is all awhirl! Sidney and I were completely at odds over everything — we had so many fights and misunderstandings. And then Mrs. Campion, and oh, Susan! It was as if the whole universe was conspiring to keep us apart at the Midsummer Ball! And now the fire and the debt and– and–”

“Well, your courtship has certainly been eventful!” Despite her amusement at Charlotte’s uncharacteristic, slightly dramatic lament, Susan’s expression was full understanding. “But remember Charlotte, love is tested in many ways. The important thing is that you and Mr. Parker overcome the difficulties and obstacles _together_. Besides, this gives you a chance to learn each other’s mettle.” 

Susan had a point, but it didn’t entirely erase Charlotte’s uneasiness.

“My dear girl, despite everything that happened, the man proposed to you as soon as he found a moment, did he not? And,” Susan continued, “He could not help but seek you out at the regatta to spend time with you despite having arrived with Mrs. Campion. He trusted you, not just as the woman he loves but also as a confidante whose advice he values. He followed you to apologise after Mrs. Campion mocked you in the refreshments tent, and never returned to her side.”

“You’re right. I’m just being silly.” Charlotte gave herself a little shake. She was not given to dwelling on gloomy moments from the past, and did not understand why such thoughts persisted. “It’s just– for a while, it felt like the whole world was against us.”

“It might seem that way, Charlotte, but I assure you it is not.” It would not be, Susan would make certain of it. 

A pause.

“He told me about his life in Antigua, and how he became acquainted with Georgiana and her father.” 

“I see.” Susan had heard about the wealthy Mr. Reginald Lambe who had married a slave, freed all the enslaved people on his plantation, and then campaigned to abolish slavery everywhere. “And did that change your opinion of Sidney in any way?”

“No.” Charlotte’s voice strengthened with conviction. “No. He’s a good man who recognises that he has made some terrible mistakes. He wants to make amends and I stand by him. I know he is sincere.”

“Good.”

Charlotte also told Susan that she and Sidney would have Georgiana stay with them after they married, if Georgiana wished it. Susan, in turn, offered to have Georgiana stay with her and sponsor her for the season in London, if she agreed. “What use my position and influence if I don’t use it to do good? People might be shocked at first, but they will come around. And there will always be those like you, Charlotte, who see beyond a person’s race and will welcome her.”

Talk of Charlotte and Sidney’s life after they were married led Susan to caution Charlotte about the potential scandal of staying in the same house as her fiancé, and invite her to stay at Worcester House instead. Touched, Charlotte promised she would speak to Mary about it.

It also led to an unexpected and surprisingly candid conversation on intimacies between husband and wife. Susan broached the subject now that Charlotte and Sidney were engaged, asking if she knew much about the marriage bed, and what to expect on the wedding night. What followed was an enlightening discussion that answered a great number of questions Charlotte had, and raised many new ones.

Unable to keep it to herself anymore — she hadn’t told a single soul, not even Alison! — Charlotte, cheeks aflame, revealed how she’d run into Sidney at the coves, and the awkward situations that occurred when they unexpectedly ran into each other several times the next morning. 

It made Susan laugh uproariously, with no trace of the poised and redoubtable society _grande dame_. “I do not mean to laugh at you my dear, not at all!” she gasped, wiping tears of laugher from her eyes, “But oh! To be a fly on the wall for all these meetings!”

Charlotte, who had tried hard to stop blushing and not hide her face behind her hands, could not help but laugh with her.

The conversation stayed on her mind all the way back to Bedford Place in Susan’s carriage that her friend had sent to convey her home. She thought she understood now that intense, hungry look she saw in Sidney’s dark eyes when she sometimes caught him staring at her. It stirred her in a way that nothing had done in all the two and twenty years of her life, making her feel warm all over and sending a shiver through her at the same time.

It also made her wonder: if he was so… affected by her when they had not done much more than exchange a few kisses — oh, breathtaking, electrifying, soul-stirring kisses to be sure; she would never deny that she liked kissing him very much indeed! — but what would it be like if they actually…?

She blushed to the roots of her hair, glad she was alone in the carriage. For, anyone who took one look at her face would immediately know the direction of her thoughts. She did not know how she could see Mary again, and keep a straight face.

Susan’s carriage deposited Charlotte outside No. 7 Bedford Place, and she stood outside on the pavement for a few moments, desperately hoping the outdoors air would cool the colour in her cheeks.

She was so lost in thoughts of herself and Sidney like _that_ , that she didn’t hear a carriage — another carriage — roll up behind her.

A very tall, very burly footman in unfamiliar livery appeared before her and she startled, only then noticing the vehicle drawn up at the kerb. She turned, and when she caught sight of the lone occupant through the open door, she stiffened, her stomach twisting with dread.

“Miss Heywood,” Mrs. Campion’s shrill voice floated out “Why don’t you join me?” 

It was not a question or a request; the command in her patently false politeness was clear. 

Charlotte glanced towards the closed front door of the Parker townhouse. She knew Sidney wouldn’t be home yet, but it would really help if there was a footman watching from the entrance hall windows whom she could signal for. She had absolutely no wish to do anything with Mrs. Campion.

The burly footman stood resolutely behind Charlotte, and when she looked at him — a mute plea for help — he simply gestured towards the carriage door with his chin, telling her wordlessly to get in. 

Charlotte knew she had no choice; the footman would bodily see her into the vehicle if she didn’t enter herself.

Throwing a final look at the front door of Bedford Place, Charlotte, heart pounding in nervousness and unease, climbed into the carriage.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I did NOT mean to leave you on such a cliffhanger! Without further ado, let's see what Mrs. Campion wants with Charlotte. 
> 
> As always, loved each and every one of your comments - thank you so much! It makes me so happy that people are invested in this fic :)

* * *

Charlotte wordlessly climbed into Eliza Campion’s carriage. The door shut behind her with a thud, and the carriage started moving before she was even in her seat, causing her to stumble backwards and almost sprawl ungainly on the bench opposite to the one on which Mrs. Campion sat. She righted herself before taking a quick look around, ignoring the other lady’s smirk.

The carriage was obviously expensive. It was well sprung and comfortable, its interiors lushly done up. The seats, of expensive white leather, were soft as butter while the walls were upholstered in fabric of a beautiful floral design. It was a bit ostentatious for Charlotte’s tastes, but she could not deny its elegance.

But in the presence of Mrs. Campion, it felt like a prison cell, and she sat as far away as possible from her as she could in the restricted space. 

She tried to keep her face impassive, but at least some of her discomfort must have been apparent because the other lady let out a grating little laugh. 

“Oh, come now, Miss Heywood,” she tittered, setting Charlotte’s teeth on edge, “There’s no need to look so alarmed. I am not abducting you, after all. I know you arrived in London three days ago and I merely wanted to see how you were settling in.”

In her irritation and the trepidation of unexpectedly having to deal with Eliza Campion, the possibility of an abduction had not even occurred to her even though she’d been instrumental in rescuing her friend from one mere days ago. Despite the hostility Charlotte had experienced from Mrs. Campion a week ago at the regatta, she would not have been able to stretch it to associating her with truly nefarious deeds like kidnapping. But now, she eyed the other woman warily; from her tone, it sounded as though she was fully capable of arranging for one, but was just choosing not to — _yet_. 

“I thought we could take a walk in this… er… _lovely_ park,” Mrs. Campion continued, her lip curling in obvious disdain as they pulled up before the gates of Bedford Park barely two minutes later, “while we bring each other up on our news.”

The carriage door opened once again, and the footman’s hand thrust inside imperiously, almost commanding Charlotte to step out. This time, she felt no hesitation in taking it and got out of the carriage as fast as she could. 

Mrs. Campion exited more gracefully but equally swiftly. Once she had stepped out, she slid her arm through Charlotte’s and directed them through the park gates, the footman following several paces behind them. Charlotte tried to remove her hand but the woman’s grip was tight and her nails were sharp as claws when she pressed them against her skin.

“It would hardly be wise to make a scene, don’t you think, Miss Heywood?” She turned her wide-eyed, seemingly guileless gaze on her as they strolled into the park. 

There weren’t too many people there at the time, and whatever Mrs. Campion decided to say to her, there was no one in the immediate vicinity to hear; that was clearly why she had chosen this park in the first place. That did not mean they would not have an audience if there was a scene. But Charlotte knew she would be the one to come off badly in such an instance, and not Mrs. Campion. She had no choice but to keep moving with her unwanted companion. 

They walked on silence down the path, heading deeper into the park, but after a few moments, Charlotte could not stand the suspense any longer. “Is there a reason you wished to talk to me alone, Mrs. Campion?”

“My, my, impatient aren’t you, Miss Heywood? But that is to be expected, I suppose. A farmer’s daughter such as yourself cannot be expected to possess the refinement of someone from fashionable society.” She gave her a pitying glance. “Very well, let us speak plainly.”

There was something about the way she said Charlotte’s very name that made it sound like an insult, and it made Charlotte grit her teeth. “I cannot see what possible reason you might have to seek my company. You made your opinion of me quite clear at the regatta.”

“And yet you persist in overreaching and insinuating yourself into situations above your station, where you clearly do not belong.”

“I was — and still am — a guest of the Parkers,” Charlotte reminded her.

“ _Guest_!” Mrs. Campion scoffed. “Sidney told me Mary and Tom Parker brought you from your village to help with the children. You are nothing more than a glorified childminder. Do not delude yourself into thinking you are anything more.”

The swiftness with which Mrs. Campion dropped all pretence at politeness was something to behold. At least in the refreshments tent at the regatta, she had come up with weak reasons to pretend to mitigate her insults. But that was in the presence of other people like Sidney and Lady Susan — people she considered important and wanted to impress, and in whose good books she wanted to remain. Clearly she did not see the need to restrain herself now. 

Charlotte sighed inwardly. They had barely spoken for a few minutes and her patience with Mrs. Campion was already beginning to dissolve. It felt as if she were talking to one of her recalcitrant younger siblings when they were in a particularly bad mood and angling for a fight. In such an instance, she usually set them some task to work off their pique, and they would find her later and either apologise or talk it out when they were calmer.

Since none of these steps were an option right now, Charlotte decided it was best to end the conversation before it went any further. She did not see anything fruitful coming from it. She stopped walking, forcing the other woman to halt too, and rather forcibly removed her hand from hers. “Regardless, I do not see how my relationship with the Parkers is any of your concern. Good day, Mrs.–”

“I’m afraid I do not share that sentiment.” Eliza Campion’s eyes glittered coldly. “It is very much my concern when you persist in throwing yourself at Sidney when you are well aware he is spoken for.”

The irony of the situation was not lost on Charlotte. Sidney was indeed spoken for, but Mrs. Campion could not know that. Charlotte had no intention of telling her; she and Sidney could not make their betrothal public until they spoke to her parents, and her relationship with Sidney and the rest of the Parkers was really none of Mrs. Campion’s business. But it left Charlotte in the absurd position of having to defend herself when she shouldn’t have to, to a woman who did not seem to be prepared to let her go without some kind of confrontation.

This combined with her rapidly depleting patience for the other woman goaded her to ask, “Is he?”

“Is he what?”

“Spoken for? By you?”

“We might have been engaged at the regatta were it not for your theatrics and tantrums!” Mrs. Campion snapped.

“Surely Mr. Parker is able to make up his own mind about where to engage his affections?”

The genuine surprise in Mrs. Campion’s laughter was entirely insulting. “Oh you naïve child, do you really think Sidney’s affections lie with _you_?” She chuckled gaily, as if it was some great joke. “Such delusions of grandeur you have! Did you think a puerile miss such as yourself would be able to ensnare him after knowing him barely a few weeks when he has loved me for a decade?”

They faced each other, standing under one of the large sycamore trees just off the path. Charlotte said nothing and Mrs. Campion continued.

“Oh, I dare say you are cunning enough, despite your ignorant provincial upbringing, to know how to entice him. Men are weak creatures, easily seduced by a woman’s... charms.” Mrs. Campion pointedly raked an insolent glance up and down Charlotte’s figure. “All that pretence at virginal innocence, and… well, Sidney always has been the protective sort. But for how long do you imagine you will be able to hold his attention with your inexperience? What do you know of his appetites, his dark desires?” 

At first, all Charlotte felt was confusion. Appetites, dark desires — it sounded positively Gothic, and for a moment, she could not even begin to fathom what Mrs. Campion was talking about. But from the conversation she’d had with Susan mere hours ago — and the sudden memory of being with Sidney inside Beecroft’s ‘boarding’ house — she quickly realised Mrs. Campion was referring to the intimacies between men and women. And remembering her own scandalous thoughts just a few minutes ago, she coloured, trying not to appear discomfited. 

But of course, Mrs. Campion’s sharp eyes missed nothing. “Just as I thought!” she crowed. “Not as innocent as you pretend, are you Miss Heywood?” Then her eyes narrowed with anger. “Did you think spreading your legs for him would be enough to sway him away from me?”

Charlotte was so shocked at the crassness of the accusation that the denial rose swiftly and hotly to her lips. “You are greatly mistaken about my character and his if you believe either of us would engage in any sort of impropriety!”

Her reply was so vehement, it could not be anything but the truth. Mrs. Campion smiled, satisfied. “He has not succumbed to your wiles, then. Not for lack of trying on your part, I’m certain. But _he_ would not, would he? No, he is devoted to _me_ and has stayed constant to _me_.” 

Her smile turned cruel. “He certainly did not withhold his attentions towards me when he was last in London.” 

Though she was standing outdoors in an open park, Charlotte suddenly felt like she was trapped in an airless room. She looked at Mrs. Campion, wondering if she had misheard, or misunderstood her meaning. But there was no mistaking the expression of smug victory of her face.

“Between you and I,” said Mrs. Campion, leaning forward conspiratorially, as if she was sharing something with her closest friend, “he was accomplished enough ten years ago, but I must say he has now surpassed all my expectations beyond my imagination.” 

Charlotte was unprepared for the stab of acute hurt this piece of information brought. Her heart pounded painfully, and her stomach churned and twisted, making it ache.

She was transported back to the night of Mrs. Maudsley’s rout, to the moment Tom had destroyed her illusions by pointing out Sidney speaking with the most elegant looking woman she had ever seen, telling her it was his long-lost love. She remembered what it had felt like to see them together — Mrs. Campion pretty and poised, Sidney dark and handsome, a striking couple that was already drawing the eyes of people in the room. The familiar way in which Mrs. Campion had put her hand on Sidney’s arm, and the way he had allowed it. The way they had smiled and talked with each other.

After that mesmerising dance, and the growing realisation that she was indeed in love with him, watching him completely forget her existence because of another woman — Charlotte had been… shattered. And _humiliated_. While she had been enthralled by the look in his dark eyes, his unwavering gaze, imagining that he too felt that mesmerising connection, it had been just another dance with just another woman to him. He had not felt anything, or if he had, it had been weak and vanished like a wisp at the reappearance of his long-lost love. 

Despite everything that had occurred since that ball, despite that Sidney had told Charlotte he loved her and they were now betrothed, the thought that he had kissed Mrs. Campion — or worse, been intimate with her — made Charlotte’s gorge rise. 

She knew she had no claim on him at that time. She had left London after Georgiana’s rescue believing Sidney still had a poor opinion of her and still regarded her as a naïve, outspoken country girl who was nothing to him other than his brother’s houseguest. And he had stayed back in the capital that week, and no doubt met and spent time alone with Mrs. Campion.

Charlotte and Sidney had not been together then; they had not even known of one another’s feelings. She could not be surprised when she all but knew Sidney had tried to rekindle things between himself and his former love. She could not object to his actions from before there was any understanding between herself and him, before they had become engaged. But it did not make the thought of him and Eliza Campion together in any way any less painful — and repulsive.

Mrs. Campion saw her opponent’s ashen face, and rejoiced to see that her barb had hit home, just as she had intended. And struck once again while the iron was still hot.

“Why do you think he did not marry all these years? No other woman has been good enough for him. The man Sidney is today is _because_ of me! The pain of losing me drove him to the West Indies, and he returned successful and wealthy, did he not?” She asked proudly, as if she was personally responsible for Sidney’s success. “And you thought you could compete with his devotion for me? Did you believe he would set me aside for you? Especially now that fate has gifted us a second chance and we are both free to marry?”

Charlotte had never actually hated anyone in her life so far — she had not met anyone who merited such intense negative feelings. But Mrs. Campion did not seem to care how badly she had hurt Sidney when she had thrown him over for a richer prospect; in fact, she seemed to take a certain pleasure in knowing he had suffered so because of her. That alone was enough to make Charlotte _loathe_ her.

“Oh, I know Sidney is being difficult right now, pretending to still be upset with me over what happened ten years ago. I imagine he thinks it’s a way of punishing me. It is why he is enacting this ridiculous charade of being taken with you. But you have nothing to offer him — no wealth, no connections, no breeding, and no beauty. You are a person of no consequence.” 

Charlotte had heard worse criticism of herself, her large family, and her background — most notably from society betters like Lady Denham — without it bothering her much. She was a sensible young woman who was well aware of her intelligence, her worth, and her capabilities. She knew she was not considered a beauty, but knew also that she was not unattractive. At any rate, such things mattered little to her. She did not lack confidence in herself, or not very much. She was a gentleman’s daughter and conducted herself as such.

Yet, to hear this succinct, brutal assessment of what society deemed as her shortcomings, coming from the elegant Mrs. Campion, who Sidney had until very recently been in love with — and who was beautiful and sophisticated and charming and everything Charlotte wasn’t — coming now, given what she had just learnt about her and Sidney — Charlotte, who could normally hold her own in any conversation, had to steel herself not to let Mrs. Campion’s words batter away at her self-confidence any more than she already had.

She stood quietly, fuming inside yet unable to stoop to the woman’s level, nor, in all honesty, able to think of a single suitable response. Her emotions were a complete maelstrom inside her.

“A man like him might be inclined to consider you for a dalliance, but he would never regard you as a matrimonial prospect unless he was looking to do something foolishly noble — like helping a pitiful girl of low birth by pulling her and her large family out of poverty.” 

Mrs. Campion rolled her eyes and Charlotte frowned inwardly, trying to understand what she might mean by that. 

“He always was soft-hearted, always looking to help people, rescue them. That’s why he is in London now, is he not? To keep his brother out of debtors’ prison?”

Charlotte stilled. How did Mrs. Campion know about the debt?

“Oh, I know all about Tom Parker’s circumstances,” the other lady said, as if she’d read Charlotte’s mind. “Not buying insurance, such a careless gamble,” she tutted. “And if he cannot repay the debt, both he and Sanditon are doomed. That is why Sidney has been running from pillar to post, has he not? _Begging_ someone to loan them the funds?”

There almost seemed to be a hint of satisfaction in her tone at Sidney’s lack of success on that front and the Parkers’ impending doom.

“The banks will not help. They are aware Tom is a fool when it comes to money. He never did have any sense for business. And while Sidney is astute enough in his financial dealings, he will find that not a single moneylender or investor in this city will lift a finger to help him. Nobody but I.”

Charlotte blinked. “You– _You_ would invest in Sanditon?”

Mrs. Campion let out that irritating trill of laughter again. “After a fashion. As Sidney’s wife, my fortune would be at his disposal, of course.”

_Wife_ , Charlotte thought. Of course. She wanted to tie Sidney to her forever in whichever way she could, uncaring for what his wishes might be or what his heart might want. The Parkers’ predicament was to her just a means to an end.

“Come now, Miss Heywood, there’s no need to be so surprised. I thought we were speaking plainly. Did we not just decide Sidney would never see you as a suitable wife?”

It was astounding how sincere and sympathetic Mrs. Campion could look and sound when her words were anything but. It occurred to Charlotte that if this was what polite society raised a woman to be, she was thankful she had never been a part of it and nor did she ever want to.

“Surely you don’t think he is going stand by and watch as his brother is sent to prison, and his sister-in-law and her children end up on the streets?” There was a trace of mockery in Mrs. Campion’s words. “He has just a week to repay the debt, does he not? His time is almost up and he cannot afford to wait any longer. His friends cannot help him. Crowe does not have the money, Babington is in straitened circumstances, and I cannot imagine why he thought Martin Blake might be able to help him. Sidney has no one else to turn to. He _will_ realise there is no door open for him save mine.”

How did Mrs. Campion know about or Lady Denham’s one-week deadline and what did she mean by that comment about Lord Babington’s finances? Charlotte was sure something was going on here that she did not understand.

“If you think running to Lady Worcester would do you any good, let me assure you it will not. Her only claim to influence is her connection to the Prince Regent, and he will most certainly not invest in Sanditon. He will never back any venture that might be a direct competition to Brighton and besides, he is in far too much debt himself.”

The quieter Charlotte stayed, the more emphatic Eliza Campion’s arguments had become. But it was clearly time to bring this conversation to an end. “What is it you want from _me_ , Mrs. Campion?”

“Why, for you to enlighten Sidney on his best option, of course. The only course of action he can take, in truth.” She paused and her tone hardened. “And to tell you to go back to your village. You have imposed on the Parkers’ hospitality long enough. I will not have you take advantage of them anymore. I want you gone.”

Charlotte did not know whether to laugh or to be outraged. “I can assure you, if Mrs. Parker felt I was outstaying my welcome, she would have–”

“If you claim to care for them,” Mrs. Campion interrupted, “you would not stand in the way of their rescue from ruination. Would you be able to live with yourself if they ended up in the poorhouse because of you? I don’t imagine Sidney will want anything to do with you when he learns he had the chance to save his family, but you did not see fit to let him take it. If you hold any regard for him at all, you would step aside and let him be happy with the woman he loves. You have kept him from doing the right thing for himself and his family long enough.”

What Mrs. Campion hoped to achieve by trying to guilt her into action, Charlotte had no idea. But she’d had enough of this conversation. She lifted her chin and looked the other woman square in the eye. “If you are so assured about Mr. Parker’s affections, Mrs. Campion, then you have no cause to worry about my presence or absence,” she said firmly. “If you know him well, you know he is a loyal man who will do whatever is needed to ensure the happiness of those he loves. If you believe his affections to be firmly fixed on you, then you have no reason to fear a young, inexperienced girl from the countryside.”

“ _Fear_?” Eliza Campion’s mouth curled into a sneer. “You think I am afraid of you? You cannot touch me, foolish girl! I decided to give you this warning as a favour to the Parkers. I have no reason to be afraid of you. You, on the other hand, have no idea how thoroughly I can ruin you and your family.” 

There was something in Mrs. Campion’s eyes that for the first time made Charlotte feel true alarm.

“It would be a pity wouldn’t it, if Charles Heywood was to have some sort of accident back in Willingden? Or if one of the little ones disappeared, and no one knew what happened to them? Ben perhaps, or little Emma?”

Charlotte froze at the mention of her father and her two youngest siblings, fear filling her heart. 

Mrs. Campion smiled to see her arrow had struck home. “Don’t be so surprised. I make it my business to know such things.”

When Charlotte said nothing, Mrs. Campion couldn’t help but twist the knife further. “But perhaps that is too tame. After all, what scandal can a maimed old farmer be? As for missing children, your family has so many, Miss Heywood, your parents might actually be glad to be rid of a few.” She laughed as if she had said something very witty. “No, perhaps it is Alison who might be abducted and ruined… how would your family ever recover from that?”

Terror clogged Charlotte’s throat as Mrs. Campion’s eyes glittered with cold malice.

“If you wish to ensure that your family stays safe, you will go back to your village, and stay away from Sidney.”

Charlotte found her voice. “Are you _threatening_ me?”

“Threatening? Oh no, no. That is such a crass word, don’t you think? I’m merely _cautioning_ you, Miss Heywood. I’m even offering to sweeten the deal. I will give you five hundred pounds to go back to Willingden. There!” Mrs. Campion gave her a self-satisfied smile. “That should be more than enough to make some hay-faced simpleton farm boy happy when you marry him!”

A wave of nausea welled up in Charlotte and for a moment she was afraid she would be violently sick right there in the park. Fortunately, anger came to her rescue, allowing her to hold her emotions in check. She steeled her spine. She would not give Mrs. Campion the satisfaction of seeing her fall apart. 

Without a single word more, she turned and walked away.


	10. Chapter 10

Even as Charlotte dithered before getting into Mrs. Campion’s carriage, one of the upper servants of No. 7 Bedford Place turned around the corner of the street on which the townhouse was located. Morgan, Sidney’s valet, had been out running errands and was almost home when he spotted the Parkers’ guest on the pavement outside the house. Despite the distance, he easily recognised the carriage she climbed into — such a handsome equipage was bound to stand out wherever it went, and besides he knew it well from when its owner had visited Bedford Place the previous week.

He saw Miss Heywood glance around and he could tell she was extremely uneasy, but she did not notice him. He sped up but he knew he would not reach her in time, and he did not want to create a scene nor draw attention to himself. So, he turned around and began ambling slowly back in the direction he had come from, waiting for the carriage to move past him down the road before following it. Luckily, it only went as far as the gates of Bedford Park.

Morgan watched as Miss Heywood and Mrs. Campion alighted from the carriage and walked into the park, followed at a respectable interval by a burly footman, and he followed them, keeping a discreet distance himself so as not to be noticed. He did not like the thuggish look of that footman.

The two women strolled some way into the park, talking, before coming to a halt under a large, shady tree. Morgan crept as close as he dared, taking care to appear as just another park-goer. He could not hear what they were saying but he was close enough to observe their expressions, and whatever discussion the two women were having, he gathered that it was not a pleasant one, at least for Miss Heywood. She looked increasingly distressed as the conversation progressed; whatever was said between them was clearly upsetting for her. Miss Heywood finally ended their exchange and walked off, leaving behind Mrs. Campion smiling in a self-satisfied manner, which did not augur well.

Still, Morgan waited until Mrs. Campion and her footman left too. He followed them out of the park, watching as the lady returned to her carriage and the footman climbed up beside the driver, and it moved off. Only once it overtook Miss Heywood walking on the pavement and turned around the corner of the street did Morgan speed up to catch up with her.

“Miss Heywood,” he called, coming up behind her. She was so preoccupied with her thoughts that he had to say her name twice more before she realised she was being called.

“Oh, Mr. Morgan.”

He thought to ask if she was alright, but he saw it would be a redundant question — he had never heard her sound so fragile nor seen her face so ashen.

“Allow me to escort you back home, Miss Heywood.” He gave her his hand and when she took it, he could feel her trembling. Despite this, she managed a wobbly smile of gratitude, and he admired her fortitude. He was well connected with servants in other influential London households and Mrs. Campion’s reputation was no secret; she saw most people as beneath her and few were spared her stinging condescension. And it was obvious why Miss Heywood had incurred her enmity.

From what he had seen of Miss Heywood, he knew her to be a kind, courageous, intelligent, and thoroughly delightful young woman. It was no wonder that Mr. Parker — even with his reputation for being arrogant, aloof, and grim — had fallen for her. Although, as Morgan knew, his employer’s reputation was not entirely deserved; Mr. Parker was merely a very private man who preferred that London society kept its collective noses out of his personal matters.

But with her sweet yet spirited disposition, it was not surprising that Miss Heywood had pierced his hitherto impenetrable armour and captured his heart. Mr. Parker was not one for grand gestures and declarations, but he did not hesitate to quietly show his regard for her nor did he try to hide how much she meant to him. 

From Morgan and Mrs Mullins’ perspective, for they of all the servants knew him best, this was a very welcome development. They knew he had spent the last decade keeping everyone, even to an extent his family and friends, at arm’s length because of his bruising experiences in the past, and they had worried for him. 

The household staff had quietly celebrated when they learnt that it was Miss Heywood who was to be the new mistress of the house and not the horrid Mrs. Campion, as they had for a few days last week feared. They too were not unfamiliar with Mrs. Campion’s unforgiving temperament. Indeed, Mrs. Mullins, Mr. Parker’s most staunch defender who had worked in his London townhouse for over two decades, had said she would rather quit if he married “that woman”. So, it was quite natural that the servants of No. 7 Bedford Place felt protective of Miss Heywood.

Morgan and Miss Heywood arrived home and she swiftly went upstairs to her room, brushing past Mrs. Mullins, who had just come from the servants’ quarters. The housekeeper was surprised that Miss Heywood did not acknowledge her, for the young lady always had time for a smile and a kind word for the household staff.

She caught a glimpse of Miss Heywood’s face as she disappeared around the corner of the landing and was concerned to see that she was clearly distressed and holding back tears.

Mary came out of the back parlour just then. “Was that Charlotte I heard? Has she returned?”

She was eager for news from Charlotte about her visit with Lady Susan. If that esteemed lady had agreed to help and found some way to save Mary’s family, she would forever be in her debt. 

“Yes,” said Mrs. Mullins, still frowning at the landing where Miss Heywood had disappeared. “But I think something is wrong.”

“Wrong? What’s wrong? What has happened?”

Morgan joined them at the foot of the stairs. “Mrs. Parker, Miss Heywood has just returned from a walk in Bedford Park with Mrs. Campion.”

“Mrs. Campion?” Mary gaped. “What could _she_ want with Charlotte?” She did not know what to make of this news at all.

Morgan quickly explained what he’d witnessed in the park.

“Oh, poor Charlotte! I must go see to her!” Mary was beginning to get a very bad feeling about this.

“Mrs. Parker, I believe Mr. Sidney must be informed.” 

“Yes, yes, of course! But I don’t know where he is.” Mary wrung her hands. “He said he had a few appointments today.”

“I know where to find him, Mrs. Parker. I will fetch him as soon as I can.” Morgan was already heading for the front door.

Mary and Mrs. Mullins exchanged concerned glances and then rushed upstairs to Charlotte’s room. 

  
**~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~**

  
As soon as she crossed the threshold of Bedford Place, the thin veneer of Charlotte’s composure crumbled. Tears blurred her eyes and she barely managed to thank Morgan for seeing her home before blindly rushing up to her room.

By the time she shut and locked the door behind her, panic had a full grip on her, and she felt as though she could not breathe. In desperation, she yanked off her bonnet and unbuttoned and flung off her spencer. When even that made no difference, she rushed to open the window and tried to gulp in lungfuls of air. If Eliza Campion saw her now, she would crow and exult in her victory, and it was this thought that finally succeeded in breaking through the veil of fear that had threatened to suffocate her ever since her conversation with her nemesis.

Charlotte breathed deeply for several moments, willing herself to calm. Gradually, the panic ebbed and released its hold, and her mind took to thinking and she began pacing around her room. When Mary knocked on her door, bidding her to open it, she politely assured her she was fine but did not let Mary in. 

A slowly-building anger was replacing the fear. By now Mr. Morgan would have told Mary how he had seen her safely home from the park. Despite the harrowing encounter, Charlotte was now a little ashamed of how she’d fallen apart. She’d had to be helped home, for god’s sake! She was even more annoyed that Mrs. Campion got to her so easily; it seemed as if she knew exactly where to stick the knife and how to twist it to trigger all of Charlotte’s insecurities.

Mary would be alarmed and would fuss, and Charlotte didn’t need that right now. She needed to think. So, she ignored Mary and Mrs. Mullins’ further entreaties to open the door and talk to them.

She focused only on Mrs. Campion’s threats towards her family for now, and put all other aspects of the conversation to the back of her mind; she would deal with them later. She knew she needed to be in a far more rational frame of mind to truly gauge how she felt about Mrs. Campion’s revelations about herself and Sidney, because right now, her emotions were like a runaway horse. Besides, her family’s safety was her priority. Her sure-to-be-uncomfortable discussion with Sidney had to wait.

Charlotte continued to pace, her brain working furiously as it turned over and examined ideas and solutions. Finally, she came to a conclusion. There was really only one thing to be done. The conversation with Mrs. Campion had made that clear as crystal. 

  
**~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~**

  
Barely half an hour after Charlotte returned from her ghastly outing to Bedford Park, Sidney burst in through the front door of his townhouse, Francis Crowe and the trusty Morgan right behind him.

He strode through the entrance hall just as Charlotte came down the stairs, Mary and Mrs. Mullins close on her heels. Gone was the elegant gown from this morning; instead she was clad in the green pelisse she had worn on her previous trip to London. She was clearly dressed for travel, even carrying her small valise. Both Mary and Mrs. Mullins seemed to be trying to reason with her, but from the obstinate expression on his betrothed’s face, he could tell they were having little success.

“Charlotte!” 

Sidney’s heart had almost stopped when Morgan had found him at his gentlemen’s club and informed him that he was needed at home for Charlotte. His valet had assured him that she was physically unhurt, but his alarm had doubled when he learnt the true cause of her distress. There was no love lost between Charlotte and Mrs. Campion, and he felt uneasy that the latter had sought the former out. 

Now, he rushed to Charlotte’s side, his hands reaching for hers. But she evaded his grip and stepped away, and would not meet his eye. He stopped, confused.

“Sidney!” 

It was Mary who looked relieved to see him; Charlotte’s usually open countenance was unreadable, and his anxiety mounted. He gestured towards the living room, which would offer some modicum of privacy for their discussion, and followed them along with Crowe. 

Morgan and Mrs. Mullins stepped back; they would not be privy to this discussion, of course, but remained close at hand in case they were needed.

“Charlotte, what has happened? Morgan says you spoke to Mrs. Campion?”

“Yes.” Instead of taking a seat, as Mary did, Charlotte set her valise down and clasped her hands together, fiddling with her fingers. “I have to go to Willingden.” 

“ _Willingden_? Now? Why?”

“My family–” Charlotte took a deep breath and forced herself to sound matter-of-fact and not panicky or hysterical. “Mrs. Campion threatened them. I’m afraid for their safety. A letter will not reach them soon enough. I must go myself and warn them. _Now_.”

Even as she said the words, she could hear how unbelievable they sounded. Mrs. Campion might be influential in London society, but ladies of the _beau monde_ did not go around threatening other people’s families. It was a laughable notion, and more so that someone like Mrs. Campion would resort to it. 

On second thought, maybe she should have remained panicky and hysterical. At least that would have shown Sidney and the others she had reason to be truly upset and that she was not making improbable accusations against his former love. 

“Mrs. Campion threatened– are you sure?”

It still stung that he didn’t believe her. 

None of them seemed to believe her. When she’d first told Mary, her friend had looked politely nonplussed, as if Charlotte had spoken in a foreign language she did not understand. Now, Sidney looked baffled and Crowe, sceptical.

“I would not make such a serious accusation if it was unfounded,” she said. A tremor in her voice betrayed her agitation. “She threatened to cause an accident that might hurt my father, to kidnap Ben or Emma or both, to have Alison ruined. I am aware Mrs. Campion takes great pleasure in finding amusement at my expense but I cannot take the risk that she meant it only in jest.”

There was a pang in Sidney’s chest even as several thoughts clamoured in his mind all at once. It was indeed a serious accusation, one Charlotte would never invent – why would she? It was simply not in her honest and forthright nature to be deceitful or petty. If Charlotte’s family was in any kind of danger – because of her association with _him_ , no less – they must of course be warned. 

But what Sidney could not fathom was why Mrs. Campion might threaten Charlotte’s family in the first place. It was not because he was still misled about her character; he had accepted that Mrs. Campion was not a good person. Either she had never been one and his infatuation with her as a youth had blinded him to her faults, or a decade spent in the uppermost echelons of society, obsessed with wealth, class, status and rank, had changed her. 

He had witnessed Mrs. Campion’s supercilious behaviour at the balls and parties he’d attended during the week he had spent in London prior to the regatta, and it had made him deeply uncomfortable. She was all too ready to denigrate people, especially other young women, whom she considered beneath her. Just as she had slighted Charlotte in the refreshments tent at the regatta.

Nevertheless, being rude and condescending to people beneath one’s station was miles from threatening someone with harm. He could not see what reason Mrs. Campion, with her fortune and stature, would have to concern herself with a gentleman farmer’s family buried deep in rural Sussex even if she did not get along with his daughter.

But it was Charlotte’s final comment that had set off alarm bells ringing in Sidney’s mind. Charlotte was successfully managing to keep her composure; he was sure Mary and Crowe only saw how bravely she was rallying. But her beautiful brown eyes blazed with tightly-leashed fury. And it was not only Mrs. Campion her ire was aimed at, it was at him too. That barb was meant for him.

He had underestimated how badly his foolish defence of Mrs. Campion at the regatta — where he’d apologised on her behalf and called her thinly-veiled insults a jest — had wounded Charlotte. He knew he had hurt her feelings; that much had been obvious from the tears in her eyes, and the way she had shrugged off his hand and asked him to leave her alone. But matters had sorted out between them soon after and then he had asked her to marry him, and old arguments and misunderstandings seemed to be a thing of the past. 

But it was clear Charlotte hadn’t forgotten his thoughtless remark at all. It occurred to him now that he had never apologised for his behaviour at the regatta. And there was more to Charlotte’s current anger than his past missteps — it could only be something Mrs. Campion had said and whatever that was, it had deeply upset her.

He longed to talk to her about it, but that would have to be a conversation for another time. He did not want to discuss anything personal between himself and Charlotte with Mary and Crowe as an audience. Besides, they had more immediate matters to deal with right now. 

“Charlotte,” he said carefully, “Why would Mrs. Campion threaten your family? We have nothing to do with her anymore.”

Charlotte almost snarled in frustration. She wanted to shake Sidney. He had once had a not very high opinion of her intelligence, yet he was the one being incredibly obtuse right now. How could he not see– 

Surprisingly, it was Crowe who answered for her. “Dash it, Parker, don’t be such a dolt,” he drawled. “You invited her to the regatta and she expected you to offer for her. She’s clearly set her cap at you. Besides, she has been spreading rumours at _ton_ parties that the two of you will soon be engaged.”

“What? Why would she do that? We agreed to go our separate ways!” Sidney was aghast. “Why didn’t you tell me this before? And,” he added, more to Charlotte than anyone else, “I didn’t invite her to the regatta, Tom did!”

“I thought it was true until this afternoon when you told me of your engagement to Miss Heywood,” Crowe shrugged. “Thought you’d decided to go back to Mrs. Campion. Which would have been a muttonheaded thing to do considering how _fixated_ you’ve been on Miss Heywood all summer. Which, I assure you, Mrs. Campion noticed. Anybody with eyes and a brain at the regatta certainly did.”

Despite the seriousness of the situation, Crowe’s words, said in his usual laconic, droll way, had the desired effect of taking the edge off Charlotte’s rapidly escalating temper. Her face went a little pink. And Sidney’s cheeks too had taken on a red tinge, which amused Crowe to no extent. His friend was one of the most unflappable people he knew, but apparently even mild allusions to his feelings for Miss Heywood could have him blushing like a debutante. Indeed, watching Parker tie himself into knots because of Miss Heywood had been one of the most entertaining aspects of his time in Sanditon.

“God, first Babbers and now you,” he groused in a pretence of bored disgust. “Besotted fools, the both of you. Is there something in the water in Sanditon?”

“Well you shouldn’t have to worry about that,” Sidney retorted, regaining his wits, “You barely even touch the stuff.”

The moment of levity had done its work. Mary unsuccessfully tried to smother a smile, and there was a tiny twitch at the corner of Charlotte’s lips.

“I think,” said Crowe, now that Miss Heywood didn’t look like she wanted to throw a blunt object at his friend’s head or possibly strangle him, “Miss Heywood had better tell us what exactly occurred with Mrs. Campion.”

Charlotte was a little surprised at how Mr. Crowe, of all people, had so effectively steered the ship into calmer waters. Usually, he was at least mildly drunk and seemed to be barely aware of the goings-on around him. It was strange to see him so… lucid. And it dawned on her that he noticed far more than she had given him credit for. 

But coming back to the present, his words reminded her that she and Sidney could have easily fallen into an argument without him even knowing what had transpired between herself and Mrs. Campion.

“She said you were spoken for, by _her_ ,” Charlotte began, turning to face Sidney, “And she blames me for you not proposing to her at the regatta. She thinks I’m not fit to be your wife and I should stop having such delusions of grandeur.” Good lord, it sounded so dramatic and exaggerated, like something out of a stage play. She could not bring herself to repeat any of Mrs. Campion’s other distasteful insinuations. “She knows about Tom’s debt and the deadline to repay it. She said no bank or investor in the country will lend you any money, and she is the only one who can save the family.”

“How?” Sidney bit out. His face had become grimmer with every word of Charlotte’s tale. Mary looked horrified. 

Charlotte met his eyes calmly. “When you marry her, her fortune becomes yours.”

Sidney’s countenance went dark as thunder. “Did she say anything else?”

The bland recitation of facts felt so clinical, and yet it had gone miles in making Charlotte feel like she had regained her footing; instead of distressing her more, it had done the opposite and calmed her.

“She said I was keeping you from doing the right thing by your family. She wants me gone. She offered me five hundred pounds to return to Willingden.”

A dark, ugly look crossed Sidney’s face, and for an infinitesimal second, Charlotte saw the side of him that had earned his grim reputation. She could see why people could be afraid of a man like him. 

“I presume,” she continued, “that if I don’t return, she intends to go ahead with her threats against my family.”

There was a pause.

“Anything else?”

Charlotte shook her head. They both knew she was lying, but she had no intention of bringing up any of the other things Mrs. Campion had said. Not yet, at least.

“But she seemed to… know things. She guessed I had — or would — speak to Susan,” Charlotte began pacing, thinking out loud more than speaking to anyone in particular, “She told me not to expect any help from that quarter because Susan doesn’t wield enough influence and the Prince Regent would never support Sanditon. She knew all about Tom’s debts and the deadline. She knows we have been in town for three days. She mentioned Mr. Martin Blake– Sidney, I think– do you think she might be spying on us?”

Utter silence followed her speech. But as preposterous as her speculation sounded, none of them looked like they disbelieved her now.

“That can be verified… to an extent,” said Crowe slowly. “The servants might have noticed something.”

“They would have come forward if they did.” Sidney frowned but stepped out to instruct Morgan to question the staff. 

When he returned but a minute later, Charlotte’s valise was in her hand again. 

“I must go,” she said, her tone brooking no argument. 

“Charlotte, wait–” He caught her arm.

Charlotte’s scowled at him, thinking he was going to argue and try to dissuade her from going. 

Instead, after a moment’s pause in which he looked into her eyes, trying to read her, he said, “You can’t travel alone. I’ll come with you.”

That was certainly not what she had expected, and she felt a rush of warmth towards him. But– “You can’t leave London now, Sidney. You have meetings with potential investors– oh, you have a meeting with Lady Susan and her financial advisors tomorrow!”

In the mess of all this drama instigated by Mrs. Campion, they had all completely forgotten that they had yet to hear from Charlotte about the outcome of her meeting with Lady Susan.

At Sidney’s hopeful and questioning look, she nodded, smiling. “Susan is confident her advisors can help us craft a plan to deal with the debt. But you need to be here to meet them.”

“Are they called the Abbots, by any chance?”

“Yes, do you know them?” Charlotte asked, surprised.

“No, I’ve never had cause to meet them yet. But they are Babbers’ financial advisors too. He is also going to set up a meeting for us with them tomorrow.”

Which meant Sidney had no choice; he would have to stay in London. He made a mental note to coordinate with both Babington and Lady Worcester for a convenient venue for tomorrow’s meeting. 

“That settles it, then,” said Mary. “I’ll come with you, Charlotte. Sidney can handle the meeting. Besides, it would have been highly improper for the two of you to travel alone together without a chaperone”

But Sidney shook his head. “I cannot let the two of _you_ travel alone. It’s not safe.”

“No,” Mary agreed, “But perhaps Morgan might accompany us?” 

That was a better idea, but Sidney was still sceptical. Not to mention, he wanted them both to be present when important the financial discussions took place. It was their future as much as anyone else’s that was on the line, and he did not intend to take decisions on behalf of the entire Parker family without their inputs. But it was imperative Charlotte’s family be warned of whatever threats Mrs. Campion planned to carry out against them. (His mind still boggled at that thought).

“I’ll go.”

Three pairs of eyes swivelled towards Crowe. Sidney looked merely curious, but both Mrs. Parker and Miss Heywood seemed sceptical, which — oddly — made him feel mildly affronted. 

“Tell me, Miss Heywood, how were you planning on getting to Willingden?”

She hesitated. “I was going to take the coach, of course.”

“Which would not only be unsafe for a young lady such as yourself, but you would also not reach Willingden before tomorrow morning. That is if the coach even went all the way to your village,” Crowe pointed out. 

It didn’t, as Charlotte well knew. She grimaced.

Sidney scowled at the thought of Charlotte making that journey alone. And then scowled even more when he remembered how she had stolen away on the London coach from Sanditon despite Mary’s explicit instructions not to.

“I’ll go. On horseback,” Crowe clarified. “I’ll be quicker to reach Willingden — if I leave within the hour, I could make it there by midnight. A carriage will take longer, and a coach much longer still.”

Charlotte gaped at him. Any signs of inebriation and complacence had vanished. In place of the Crowe who wandered around, at least half-foxed, was a different man entirely.

“If you give me a letter that I can give to your parents, explaining the situation,” Crowe continued, “I’ll see it delivered to their hands. And perhaps you should write something that only your family would know, so they would wouldn’t think my errand was some sort of falsehood or trap.”

Charlotte’s mind marvelled at his quick thinking, but she was too stunned by this change in his demeanour to reply. Also, if she was being honest, she was a little uncertain of him. If it were Lord Babington, she would have no reservations. But Crowe had always seemed the most unreliable of the trio that were Sidney and his friends.

Some of what she was thinking must have shown on her face because he smiled at her sardonically. “You can trust me, Miss Heywood,” he said with a wry chuckle. “I’ll do this, if not for you, then for Parker’s sake.”

“Of– of course,” she stammered, mortified; she hadn’t meant to insult him. 

Morgan knocked just then and stuck his head in, his eyes zeroing in on Sidney, who immediately went to check what he had to report. Crowe followed him out, calling out over his shoulder as he left: “The letter, Miss Heywood!”

Charlotte turned to the writing table in the corner to pen a quick note to Alison. It would be faster and easier than writing a whole letter of explanation to her parents; Alison knew everything and would know exactly what and how much to tell them on behalf of her sister. 

Mary, who was quite overcome by the afternoon’s events, sank into one of the chairs. She sat there, eyes unseeing, focused blankly out of the window as Charlotte’s pen sped across paper on the other side of the room.

Charlotte was just sealing her letter when Sidney and Crowe returned. 

“We cannot be sure whether or not Mrs. Campion has someone watching the house,” Sidney reported. “The grooms have spotted a couple of unfamiliar faces in the mews in the past few days. But they might easily be new employees hired by one of our neighbours. Morgan will make enquiries.” 

“If someone is watching the house, they’d have a better chance of remaining undetected if they did it from across the street.” Crowe added.

“So, what should we do now?” Mary asked.

“Continue to act as if you are unaware and unsuspicious,” Crowe replied. “Bedford Place is a bustling area with dozens of people coming and going every day. It would be nigh on impossible to interrogate every unknown face in the vicinity of the house. But you must be alert and careful. If you are observant and lucky enough, you might spot something useful. Now,” he turned to Charlotte, “If you give me your letter, Miss Heywood, I will be off.”

“When you reach Heywood Hall, please ask for my sister Alison. I have written to her regularly and she is up to date with the situation here. She will know what to tell my parents. Mr. Crowe, thank you,” Charlotte added, infusing her voice with as much sincerity as possible. She realised her hesitation must have come across as impossibly rude earlier.

He smiled – probably the first genuine smile he had given her. “Not necessary, Miss Heywood,” he replied, taking the letter from her and tucking it away in the pocket of his waistcoat. “I merely strive to be useful in the best way I can.” 

He put on his coat and hat, which one of the footmen had brought for him.

“Mr. Crowe, will you– you will let us know as soon as possible when you reach Willingden?”

“Of course.”

Crowe left, heading straight to the back of the house to get to the mews. He would take Lucifer, Sidney’s own large black stallion, and set off for Charlotte’s village immediately.

“Mr. Crowe does not have a twin brother by any chance, does he?” Charlotte asked, still perplexed by this new side of Sidney’s friend.

Mary and Sidney laughed, and it went a little way in easing some of the tension that had built up. 

“No,” said Sidney, “But I imagine his change in demeanour is unexpected to those unused to him. He was in the army; taking charge comes naturally to him. When he wants to.”

Both Mary and Charlotte looked startled. 

“He fought in the war with France,” Sidney added.

“I see.” Charlotte’s eyes immediately softened in understanding. She knew it was difficult for some of the soldiers who returned home after the war. Perhaps that was why Mr. Crowe was the way he was.

Sidney’s thoughts were on Charlotte and less on his friend; Crowe’s history was not new to him, after all. He wanted nothing more than to speak to Charlotte. He was not particularly looking forward to the conversation, considering it would involve discussing Mrs. Campion, who — ironically enough — he had expended more than enough thought on for a lifetime. But he knew Charlotte was unhappy, and the mere thought of her unhappy was like a knife to his heart. 

And on top of that, she was anxious about her parents and siblings. He understood the fear one felt when one’s family faced any kind of threat. The Heywoods would soon be his family too, and he shared her worry. 

Now that Crowe had left, it felt like an opportune moment to have a private conversation with Charlotte about what had occurred earlier in the day with her and Mrs. Campion. Surely Mary would understand and would give them some time alone? He moved closer to Charlotte, his hand instinctively seeking hers again. But she stepped away once more and had gone back to not meeting his eye.

“I think–,” Charlotte stammered, her eyes darting around the room, looking anywhere but at Sidney, “I think I should like to rest for some time in my room.” Before Sidney and Mary could say anything in response, she practically fled the room.

The two Parkers stared after her.

Mary suddenly put her face in her hands. “This is all my fault,” she said in a tortured whisper.

“How is Mrs. Campion being a terrible person your fault?” Sidney asked wearily, heading for the liquor cabinet and pouring himself a drink. 

“It’s not yours either,” Mary said knowingly as he collapsed onto the sofa, glass in hand.

“No, but Charlotte’s family being in any kind of danger _is_ my fault. It is because of Mrs. Campion’s association with me. It’s a wonder Charlotte is even speaking to me right now.”

“Give her some time, Sidney. She’s angry and worried, but I know she doesn’t blame you. Now, Tom on the other hand…” Mary sighed. “I would not be surprised if she blamed him for everything. And me. If I’d kept a check on him, we wouldn’t be in this predicament in the first place.”

“How could we have known, Mary?” Sidney took a large gulp that depleted half his drink. “Tom has made some unsound decisions in the past, but never anything so– so– foolish. If we had to keep a check on him, we would have to take over the running of Sanditon.”

“Perhaps we should have let him deal with the debt himself. Fix his own mistakes.”

“Do you really think I would have stood to one side and done nothing as you and the children were beggared? As my brother was carted off to prison?” Sidney demanded. “What kind of man do you take me for, Mary? How can you expect something like that of me?”

“You have always come to Tom’s aid when he has needed it,” Mary said. “And god forgive me, I suppose I have asked you to help him one time too many. But I’m afraid forcing him to deal with the matter himself might be the only way Tom might learn his lesson. And if he still doesn’t… well. I will know that his family, his own wife and children, never really mattered to him.”

“He loves you. If Tom has one redeeming quality, it is that.” He reddened when he realised what he had implied about his own brother. He was trying to reassure Mary, for god’s sake!

But Mary did not seem to notice. “Does he?” she replied bleakly. “He never told me if anything was bothering him. He hid everything from me, pretended everything was fine, pretended to be cheerful. Why didn’t I see it?”

Mary got up from her seat and began pacing around aimlessly. 

“No, I _did_ see it,” she corrected herself. “And I asked him what was wrong. I asked him to share his worries with me, to confide in me. But he brushed me off every time, saying I was making a fuss for nothing, or that the problem was temporary and would be easily remedied. Why did he feel as if he could not share any of his troubles with me?”

Sidney had no answer to that, and as Mary did not seem to expect one, he stayed quiet.

“Sidney,” she turned to face him, her demeanour extremely serious. “I know it is not my place to advise you.” 

He opened his mouth to protest, but she silenced him with a firm glance.

“I did not try to introduce you to young ladies because I knew you would not like me interfering with your life. I admit, I even thought you and Charlotte might be well-suited after I spent time with her and got to know her better in Willingden–” 

Sidney’s eyes widened at that.

“–but that was not why I invited her to Sanditon. I invited her because I truly came to cherish her as a friend. And after her time with us, I have come to see her as an own younger sister. I could not bear to see her hurt. So, promise me that whatever you do, you will never keep her in the dark about anything. That you will never hide any matters of importance from her.”

“I promise I won’t,” Sidney said immediately. 

Mary eyed him, but he was not being flippant. It was an easy answer to give, because he had already made himself this exact promise.

“Good,” his sister-in-law said. “I have already lost my husband to this godforsaken town. I will not have your and Charlotte’s marriage become its victim too.”

And with that, she turned and walked out of the room, leaving Sidney wondering worriedly what she’d meant about the state of her own marriage.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for the gap in updates, work and real life really kicked my butt! The past few weeks have been so bizarre! On the one hand, I finally met my grandparents and much of my extended family after about 8 months to a year! On the downside, I haven't seen my own sister for a similar amount of time and I don't know when I will be able to :(
> 
> On the story front, as always, I'm so grateful for your comments and glad you're enjoying it! It was a happy surprise to see how many people loved that little background for Crowe!
> 
> This chapter was one of the first ones that came to my mind when I outlined this story (yes, as hard as it is to believe, there is an outline I'm following). Naturally, I wanted it to be perfect, and naturally, the chapter gave me as much trouble as it could. But I think it turned out okay (crosses fingers).

* * *

That night, Charlotte couldn’t sleep. She tossed and turned in her bed for hours. 

She was still anxious about her family’s safety, but this was mitigated by the knowledge that Crowe had gone to Willingden to warn them about Mrs. Campion’s threats; he might have even reached by now if he had made good time. And she trusted Crowe to carry out his task because Sidney hadn’t raised a single objection to his plan. She knew that if there was even the slightest danger to her family by having his friend go, Sidney would not have allowed it. He would have either gone himself or made safe arrangements for her to travel there.

So, worry for her family had become secondary — ever present but moved to the back of her mind. And now that she was not obsessing about it, her mind was freed enough to allow that dreaded topic to take over: Mrs. Campion’s comments about herself and Sidney.

That lady’s words played in Charlotte’s mind in a litany in her smug voice — “ _He certainly did not withhold his attentions towards me when he was last in London… He was accomplished enough ten years ago, but I must say he has now surpassed all my expectations beyond my imagination._ ”

She turned on to her side, miserable. Her own arguments, which she had been making to herself ever since she had shut herself in her room, ran in a loop over and over in her mind. 

She was aware, of course, that she and Sidney had made no promises to each other at the time. He had been free to dally with other ladies as much as he wished. But when the other lady in question was Mrs. Campion, whom Sidney had loved in the past, it was rather more difficult to accept than a harmless flirtation with some lady she did not know.

Were her feelings influenced by her own enmity with Mrs. Campion and knowing what kind of woman she was? Most certainly. 

But, Charlotte reminded herself, it was _her_ Sidney loved and not Mrs. Campion. It was her he had asked to marry and not Mrs. Campion. And if he had accepted her for who she was — naïve, free with her opinions, and more inclined towards reading and other unconventional interests — then she had to accept him too, unsavoury past and all. After all, it had made him the man he was today. 

But she could not forget the smug look on Mrs. Campion’s face as she’d imparted this crushing piece of news. 

Of course, the thought had occurred to her that Mrs. Campion might be lying, in which case she was obsessing over this for nothing. The best course of action would be to ask Sidney directly. But she was afraid that he might dismiss it or even refuse to discuss it precisely because it happened before there was any understanding between them.

Charlotte groaned and buried her face in her pillow, as if hoping it would stop her from overthinking. She was not a jealous person by nature, and not only was the emotion unfamiliar to her, she felt it was also unbecoming. She did not know how to handle herself like this.

Finally, she could take it no longer. With a frustrated exclamation, she sat up in bed and lit the candle on the bedside table. She reached for the book she kept there, which she read every night before going to sleep, only to remember that she had finished it the previous night but had not replaced it yet with a new one.

She threw off the covers, and swung her feet off the bed. If she could not sleep, she was determined to lose herself in a book. It was possibly the only thing that might distract her from the thoughts that persisted in plaguing her.

Pulling on her soft woollen robe over her nightgown and grabbing the candlestick from the bedside table, she quietly eased open the door to her bedroom. She tiptoed out of her room, closing the door behind her, and slowly descended the staircase, taking care to avoid the stair tread she knew creaked.

The house was quiet at this late hour as she silently made her way to the library and let herself in. Just being in the presence of so many books was a comfort and she inhaled deeply, breathing in that special scent of hundreds of books and pages. But what caught her attention almost immediately was the soft glow of candlelight coming from the adjacent study. She set the candlestick she was carrying down on one of the tables and walked cautiously to the door that separated the two rooms.

Her heart stuttered when she saw Sidney. He was seated at his desk, elbows resting on the surface, his eyes shut and his head in his hands. There was half a glass of drink at his elbow, and a decanter of the same amber-coloured alcohol before him on the table. A single candle in its brass stand cast its light on a small area around the table, leaving the rest of the room plunged in darkness. 

He must have sensed her presence — her feet had made no sound in her slippers — because he suddenly raised his head from his hands and looked straight at her.

“Charlotte.” His face became wary as he got to his feet. “Are you alright? Why are you up at this time of the night?”

“I couldn’t sleep.”

He sighed and dropped his head. “Nor I.”

He was dressed in a crumpled linen shirt, rougher and more worn than the fine lawn shirts he wore during the day, and a pair of rough trousers — no cravat or waistcoat. But it was his expression more than his clothes or the time of the night that told Charlotte all was not well with him. There was a bleakness to him and he looked miserable, his eyes dark and unhappy. It sent a pang through her heart. 

“Is everything alright? Has something happened?”

“No, no. Everything is fine,” Sidney assured her, which was not untrue. 

He had spent the rest of his day after Crowe’s departure sending missives back and forth between himself, Babington and Lady Susan regarding the next day’s meeting, and sorting paperwork related to Sanditon as well as his own business affairs. It had been the only way he could keep his mind from obsessing about what Charlotte hadn’t told him about her conversation with Mrs. Campion that had distressed her so.

The banks had also sent in their loan foreclosure notices, which although he had been expecting, had still caused dread to settle over him. Everything would depend on whatever happened the next day with Babbers’ and Lady Susan’s financial advisors. If they couldn’t come up with a plan, the Parkers faced dire times indeed. On the other hand, he curiously felt more determined than nervous, which he had not expected. In fact, he viewed the upcoming as more like some of his tougher business negotiations.

“We are to meet Lady Susan and the Abbots tomorrow morning at Babington’s house,” he told her. “We are all to go. Lady Susan specifically asked for you and Mary to both be there.”

“I am glad it is fixed, then.”

There was a pause. Charlotte noticed Sidney looking a little lost and distracted again, as if something heavy was weighing on his mind. “Sidney, are you sure you’re alright?”

He sighed. “Yes... I just– It was– I had a dream and it woke me up.”

Whatever he’d dreamt of, it seemed to have disturbed him and no matter how confused her feelings were regarding his past actions, her heart went out to him. “Not a happy one, from the looks of it.” 

He hesitated. “No, it wasn’t.” 

Charlotte just tilted her head encouragingly, letting him know he had her full attention.

Sidney wondered if he was being silly; it was just a dream after all, even if it was a bad one. He occasionally had strange dreams and even the odd nightmare, usually brought on by some or other cruelty he had witnessed in the course of his life. But even now, even when he was awake, he could still feel the after-effects of the dream, and it unnerved him.

“Sidney?”

“We were on the clifftops,” he began haltingly, “where I met you for the first time when you were walking with Mary.”

In his dream he had watched himself and Charlotte almost as if he was outside his own body, a bystander, a mere observer of the scene. They had had a conversation — he could not hear what they said, but it left her crying, and he had to fight to stop his own tears from falling too. There was a sharp, intense pain in his chest. 

Charlotte had got into a carriage — alone. Sidney had said nothing, done nothing but stand back next to his big black stallion and watch as the carriage carried her away, even as his heart felt like it was being crushed in a vice, even as he felt as if he couldn’t breathe, even as the voice in his head and his heart screamed at him to go after her. But he couldn’t, he knew he couldn’t — though he did not know why. 

But as the carriage pulled away, something had seemed to snap inside him. He’d leapt up on his horse and taken off after it, knowing he could not allow her to get away, knowing he had been foolish to think he could let her go. But no matter how hard he drove his horse or how fast he raced after her, the carriage continued to move faster and faster, the distance between them only increasing further and further. He’d screamed his throat hoarse calling after her, ridden his horse almost to exhaustion. But in the end he could only watch with tears pouring from his eyes as the carriage disappeared into the distance.

The excruciating sense of loss he had felt in the dream was so powerful that it had jolted him awake in alarm and confusion, her name a panicked cry on his lips.

He did not know what had triggered such a dream. He did not know if it was a warning or a premonition or just a result of the anxiety of the past few days. All he knew was that he had no desire to experience it in real life. And he would do _anything_ to ensure the dream never became reality.

Sidney could still feel the bone deep despair and devastation he’d felt in his dream at watching the carriage take Charlotte away from him. He had never felt such intense grief, except perhaps at his parents’ deaths, and he had been quite young then. He had known both heartbreak and loss before, but the strength of these sensations was almost frightening. The dream had badly shaken him, and he lifted the glass and downed its contents. But even the warmth of the alcohol spreading inside him did nothing to dispel the chill that had settled in his chest.

Charlotte did not quite know what to make of this. She was not one to put much stock in dreams, but then she had never had any particularly significant ones. Hers were usually just an incomprehensible jumble of images and scenes that she barely remembered the next morning. They never held much meaning for her.

Sidney’s dream, however, was worrying, not just for its contents but also for the degree to which it seemed to have affected him. She had witnessed plenty of his moods, but never before had she seen him so rattled. 

“It was just a dream, Sidney. It’s not real. I’m here. I’m not going anywhere.” 

She reached out and placed her hand over his, hoping a tangible action might bring more comfort than just words. He turned his hand so that their palms faced each other and tangled his fingers through hers. He squeezed, lightly at first, then clutching more desperately, as if her hand was the only anchor tethering him in a sea of stormy emotions.

But it was no use. His emotions had already been battered by the afternoon’s events, not to mention the considerable strain of the past few days. And this damnable dream on top of Charlotte’s continued distance after her confrontation with Mrs. Campion was the final straw. His emotions would not settle, would not calm. Instead, his despondence transformed into sudden anger. 

He gently withdrew his hand from hers and turned away, seething, breathing hard to control himself. 

“I am sick of this, Charlotte,” he said in a low voice that did nothing to disguise his suppressed rage. “No sooner than we reach a point where we might have a small respite from the mountain of troubles before us, that a new obstacle rears its head. I just want a few days of happiness with you, damn it! Is it too much to ask that people stop making things difficult for us?”

Charlotte’s heart ached for him. He had shouldered everyone’s burdens for so long, and she understood his frustration and fear every time something new threatened their already precarious circumstances. But she knew the real cause and target of his ire, and this was not a conversation she yet felt confident about having with him.

“What did she say to you?” he demanded, turning around again.

His face was half in shadow, and what she could see held a grim expression. Normally, his tone would have put her back up and she might have retorted with something scathing. But she hesitated because she knew what she had to tell him would only rile his temper further. 

“Please speak to me, Charlotte.” The words were a request but the tone verged on a command. His patience had finally worn thin. “You promised to stand by me and not let me shoulder my burdens alone. Why won’t you let me do the same for you?” 

He forced himself not to sound accusatory. After all, it was not her fault he had a nightmare that had shaken him. He did not want to browbeat her into telling him, but he was upset she hadn’t shared with him what was troubling her. After his dream, he felt raw, exposed, as if some deep wound had been ripped open again.

Charlotte sucked in a breath as she raised her eyes to his; she hadn’t expected him to be so hurt. The dream had obviously amplified his emotions — Sidney was more the type to lash out at people when he was hurt than to openly vent his feelings. But he was right in that if Charlotte expected him to share everything with her, she owed it to him to do the same.

She hesitated. “You might think me silly,” she began.

“More assumptions, Miss Heywood?” 

He felt like a hypocrite the moment he said it; had he not hesitated to tell her about his dream for the exact same reason?

Charlotte gave him a speaking glance — and he ducked his head sheepishly — but she spared him, for she had no wish to get into a childish argument. Instead, she sighed and moved to the window behind Sidney’s desk, staring outside at the darkened back garden it overlooked. And related _everything_ Mrs. Campion had said to her. 

Her comments about Sidney’s success in Antigua, her allusions to their intimacy, her remarks on Charlotte’s unsuitability as a wife for Sidney, her accusations of Charlotte seducing Sidney, that his attentions towards Charlotte were a charade meant to punish Mrs. Campion for jilting him a decade ago, that the only reason he would consider marrying Charlotte was as an act of charity.

By the end of it, Sidney’s jaw was clenched tight with rage. “She had no right saying such things to you! By god, if she were a man, I’d call her out and avenge your honour!”

Charlotte sighed. “I have had half a mind to challenge her to a duel myself. But I cannot and neither can you, so please put it out of your mind. Besides, what good would it do?”

“I cannot let her insults to you go unanswered! And she threatened your family! What possessed her, for God’s sake? What did she imagine any of this might accomplish?”

“I cannot speak as to her motives. But on the day of the regatta, she told me she didn’t see the point of entering a race unless it was to win it. I should have known that she would not have given up on you so easily.”

“I am not some kind of prize to be won!” he sputtered.

“I do not think Mrs. Campion sees it that way.”

Sidney clenched his fists, itching to take some action. He felt like an impatient, angry bull wanting to charge at something. But more, he was furious at himself for being so nearly taken in by Mrs. Campion once again when he had already experienced her cruel and deceitful nature before. He felt ashamed that he had been foolish enough to even consider rekindling his relationship with her. 

It took a vast amount of discipline to bring his anger under control. Only then did he remember Charlotte had still not told him what exactly had upset her. She would not meet his eye, and he watched her with a slight frown, mentally sifting through everything she had related. 

“Charlotte, you don’t believe the things she said, do you? About you being unsuitable to be my wife? Or that I’d only marry you to help pull your family out of poverty? Because I could have never thought her capable of such tripe, but I seem to have overestimated her intelligence.”

“No. It did give me a few bad moments at first,” she admitted. “But I know it was her way of trying to undermine my confidence. I’m sorry to say it worked, even if for just a little while.” She grimaced.

“Ah... So… that’s not why you’re upset?”

“No…”

“Good, good.” There was an awkward pause where Sidney just looked at her cluelessly. “Er... forgive me, but what…?”

Charlotte hid her face in her hands and groaned. 

“Charlotte, what is it?” 

“Mrs. Campion said you had… that you and she had–” _Oh god_. She had never felt so small and gauche in her life.

Realisation dawned on Sidney. “Are you… That Mrs. Campion and I might have…” 

He trailed off and shuffled his feet, and the awkward silence between them made Charlotte cringe in embarrassment. 

“We didn’t,” he hurried to explain. “We weren’t… intimate, that is. I danced with her a few times when we attended the same parties. And she made advances. Not at first, although she made it clear she welcomed mine. But I couldn’t bring myself to– to–” 

Even trying to say the words made him feel deeply uncomfortable.

“She kissed me. Once. But it felt _wrong_ , Charlotte, it felt as if I was betraying you, betraying _myself_.” He sighed and rubbed his eyes. “Everything about that entire week felt wrong.”

The low candlelight threw his face into angles and shadows. He looked… _tired_.

Charlotte yearned to comfort him, her own emotions a complete whirl inside her. But she was curious to hear what he had to say. And she instinctively knew they had to have this conversation, as painful as it might be for both of them.

“For ten years, I lived with the idea that Mrs. Campion represented the happiness I had lost.” 

After his initial downward spiral, and especially once he’d reached Antigua, he had not spent every day pining for the woman who had thrown him over. In fact, as the years progressed, he had gone weeks and then months without thinking about her. Time and distance had dulled the pain of broken heart and hurt pride, and work had kept his mind off it. 

But Sidney had met no one that challenged this perception of Mrs. Campion in his mind, no one who had managed to provoke feelings of a romantic inclination in him and thus dislodge her from the position she occupied. No one, that is, until Charlotte.

“I thought, with Mrs. Campion widowed and free to marry again, I was finally getting my chance at happiness. That everything I had wanted for so long was within my grasp. How wrong I was. The more time I spent with her, the less joy I felt at the prospect of being married to her. But more, I couldn’t stop thinking about you.” 

Brown eyes met brown, both sets vulnerable.

“That whole week, I thought of little else but you. I couldn’t understand why, if I had wished to be reunited with Mrs. Campion for a decade, it was you who consumed my thoughts.” 

His confusion over his feelings for Charlotte had wreathed through his mind and heart like tendrils of smoke, colouring his every interaction with Mrs. Campion.

“I found myself wishing you were still in London so I could talk to you. I wanted to tell you about my day and I wanted to hear about yours. I wanted your opinions, your advice. Hell, I would have been happy to be arguing with you if it meant you were in London with me. I didn’t realise it but I was miserable without you.”

His deep voice was husky and heavy with emotion.

Charlotte’s eyes widened. Her opinions and how free she was with them had once been a major point of contention between them.

“But when you left London to return to Sanditon with Tom and Georgiana, you were so distant. You wouldn’t even look at me.”

“How could I dare to look at you?” Charlotte blurted. “I’d just realised I had fallen in love with you. But you forgot I existed the moment you saw Mrs. Campion! I was afraid you’d see my feelings for you and pity me. Or worse, mock me. I couldn’t bear the thought of it.” She turned away from him, her arms wrapped protectively around herself, but her voice gave away how very close to tears she was. 

Sidney felt as if a hand had closed around his heart and squeezed it painfully. He stared at her back, guilt flooding him. 

“Charlotte,” he said, hating how helpless and pathetic he felt, “I thought you still had a poor opinion of me… In the carriage, you said–”

He stopped, the memory both too painful and a shameful reminder of how he had behaved. But Charlotte turned to him, looking stricken.

“Do not apologise!” he warned before she could say a word. “You were right. Your words… they kindled something inside me. I had closed myself to everyone. But your good opinion mattered to me, more than anybody else’s. I did not want to be unknowable to you.”

He swallowed once to calm his nerves, steady his voice, then spoke, because she deserved an explanation and he deserved to have his say.

“The realisation that I’d been a fool and wasted ten years of my life because I thought I loved Mrs. Campion — it was a hard truth to swallow. When she came to Sanditon for the regatta — on Tom’s invitation, not mine — I still couldn’t reconcile myself to the idea of marrying her. But I was getting a second chance with her, and I thought I would be a fool if I threw it away. If nothing else, her connections and influence in London society would be useful for Sanditon.”

He took a deep breath but his gaze was steady and did not waver from hers.

“I didn’t know then that I was already in love with you, that I had been in love with you for quite some time. I think I had no hope you might think favourably of me, so I didn’t want to examine my own feelings. But at the regatta — after our conversation in the boat — I couldn’t ignore it any longer. When I tried to picture my future, it was not her I saw myself loving, marrying, having a family with, growing old with. It was you.”

Charlotte visibly softened and Sidney felt as if a great weight had been lifted off his shoulders.

“It was Mr. Stringer who gave me hope that you might return my feelings.”

“James Stringer?” she asked, confused.

“Yes. He’s in love with you.” 

He had not meant to bring up the other man. But just as Charlotte — understandably — needed reassuring about Mrs. Campion, perhaps he too felt a little insecure and needed to be sure he was not competing with another for her heart. 

Charlotte’s shock surprised him. “You did not know?”

“He– he can’t be… Are you sure?”

“Charlotte, he’s positively besotted with you.”

“Oh. _Oh_.” 

Charlotte’s memories of the day of the regatta were dominated by Sidney and the various incidents involving Mrs. Campion. But she was easily able to recall her walk with Mr. Stringer. Indeed, at the time, it had been the one peaceful moment in an otherwise emotionally tumultuous day. But the more she remembered of their talk, the more the memory of it distressed her. 

“At the regatta, I think– I think he was trying to tell me… Oh god, I think he tried to declare his feelings for me and I wasn’t even aware of it!”

She recalled their walk, how Mr. Stringer had wanted to have a “substantial conversation” with her. He’d been trying to tell her how he felt about her and she’d nattered away to him about her futile attachment to another man. How callous he must have thought her! 

Sidney was remembering the same incident, but his was a much different recollection. He remembered the hot burn of worry he’d felt at watching Charlotte and Stringer walk away together, engrossed in their conversation. He’d noticed how easy and relaxed they were in each other’s company, unlike his and Charlotte’s more precarious relationship. He hadn’t identified the emotion as jealousy but that was what it had been, at the regatta and even before, at the cricket match. Perhaps even as far back as old Mr. Stringer’s accident, when she had comforted Young Stringer. Sidney had a distinct memory of rushing out of the house to send Young Stringer to his father the moment he’d spotted him clasp Charlotte’s hands in his.

“Would you have preferred–?” The words shot out of his mouth before he could bite them back.

“Him? To you?” She studied his guarded expression.

“He’s a good man,” he said quietly. “Closer to you in age than I. And he has always treated you with honour and respect and kindness… unlike me. He would make you a better husband than I.”

“Perhaps. But it’s not him I love.” 

Sidney almost shuddered inwardly with relief. 

“After he won the gentlemen’s boat race, he said it was not the prize he’d been after.”

There was a flicker of annoyance in her beautiful brown eyes. “I am not a prize to be won,” she echoed his earlier words.

“Unlike Mrs. Campion, I think he was referring to your heart. Any man who won your heart would know it is a treasure, invaluable beyond one’s wildest dreams. I know I do.”

She blushed.

“Charlotte,” Sidney took a step closer. “I must apologise for the way I behaved at the regatta. I know it is a poor defence, but it was dawning on me that I was in love with you and I scarcely knew what to make of it. I was terrified of my feelings and even more terrified that you would never return them. And there was Mrs. Campion and Mr. Stringer.” He sighed deeply. “Everything was beginning to unravel around me and the more I tried to hold things together, the worse I made them.”

“It’s alright, Sidney.” She reached out and gently squeezed his hand. “I’ve already forgiven you for all of that. We would not be here today if I had not.” 

Her tone held a hint of teasing and he tentatively returned her smile.

A pause.

“So, it helped?” Charlotte asked hesitantly. “Seeing _her_ , spending time with her,” she clarified. “Did it help you to understand your feelings for her? And for me?”

“Yes, of course.” His brows furrowed in confusion. 

“Then I can be glad she came into our lives now rather than after we were married.”

At Sidney’s puzzled expression, she explained, “If you had met her after we married, you would have spent the rest of your life wondering whether you might have had your second chance with her if not for me.” Her voice trembled a little and she fought to rein in the tears welling up in her eyes. “I would not be able to live with myself if you realised you loved her and regretted marrying me.”

“Charlotte, I would _never_ regret it!” There were tears in his eyes too. “I love you! You believe me, don’t you?”

“I do,” she assured him, sniffling a little. “If I thought you still loved Mrs. Campion, I would have freed you from our engagement. I would never stand in the way of your happiness, Sidney.”

“ _You_ are my happiness, my dearest _dearest_ Charlotte.” He reached for her hand and drew her into his arms, “And I will spend every day of the rest of our lives together proving it to you if I have to.”

She put her arms around him and pressed her cheek to his chest, revelling in the warm comfort of his arms around her. The strength he exuded was not just physical and Charlotte, who had never before felt the need to lean on anyone, could not deny how much she appreciated the safety and security of his embrace. She sighed happily and burrowed closer into him, smiling when he rested his cheek on the top of her head and let out a similar sigh of contentment.

Her gaze fell upon his desk, on the gloves and the seashells she had spotted the previous day. “Sidney?”

“Hmm?” 

“Those are my gloves, aren’t they?”

“Er…” 

“How did you come to have them?” She pushed back from his chest to look up at him. “Did you find them at the cove?”

He nodded, and she could see his cheeks begin to redden even in the light of the single candle.

“Why did you never give them back to me?”

“There never seemed a good time,” he replied a little defensively. “There was always someone around; I couldn’t just return them to you in front of everyone. They would certainly have questions as to how _I_ came to be in possession of a pair of _your_ gloves. I never had the chance to give them back to you.” 

He fidgeted a little, to Charlotte’s secret amusement.

“They stayed in my coat pocket and I began carrying them everywhere because it felt like I had you near me, with me.” He blushed.

She was both delighted and touched by his admission. But when she went to pick up the gloves, he stayed her hand and laid his own on them like a possessive magpie with a shiny object. 

“I’ll buy you a new pair.”

She had to smother a giggle at the expression on his face. “Could I not at least have the shells back?”

“Ah, you want a souvenir to remember that day, do you?” he asked cheekily, grabbing the chance to tease her back. He had seen her amused little smirk.

“I do not think there is any way I could forget that day,” she replied, blushing hotly. The image of him rising naked from the waves, his sculpted body revealing itself like some god of the sea, was permanently etched on her mind. She cleared her throat. “On second thought, keep the shells. I was collecting them for my brothers and sisters but it seems… wrong to give these to them now. I shall find new ones.”

He blushed too, but was grinning when he tugged her close again.

She leaned into him and he nuzzled her forehead, and they both closed their eyes, affected by the simple sensation. He stroked his hand down her hair. It was a moment of sweet closeness, and they each seemed to crave it as much as the other. But it all changed in a heartbeat. When their eyes met, they both felt the shift at the same time. Her breathing quickened. Her gaze went to his mouth at the same moment as his eyes dropped to her lips. When she looked up at him again, his gaze had darkened. 

He leaned down but paused with his brow touching hers, their mouths a mere hairsbreadth apart. His eyes roved over her face, her features, taking her in. For a moment, it felt as if they were suspended in time. Then, she felt his warm breath on her lips and her heart began to race. The sheer depth of the emotion in his eyes was too much. Both of them surged forward at the same time, closing the gap between them.

They had kissed before. But the instant their lips met, it felt more glorious, more breathtaking, more utterly _right_ than it ever had. 

For Sidney, nothing could ever equal the perfection of having Charlotte in his arms. He savoured the sensuous press of her mouth against his, the lush softness of her lips, her sweet taste. His hands moved up and down her back, gently caressing, before tightening around her waist and drawing her closer until she was flush against him. Her lips parted under his and the kiss deepened. The stroke of her tongue against his made his head spin.

Charlotte clung to him. From the kisses they had shared so far, she knew the wild thrill of being in his arms. Now, she was discovering delightful new sensations. The taste of him, the smoky flavour of alcohol on his tongue. His scent, which even in London, reminded her of the Sanditon sea. She slid her hands up his arms, admiring the flex of his muscles under her fingers, then up to his broad shoulders before sliding down his chest and gripping his shirt. The warmth of his body enveloping her made her feel both wanted and cherished, and she followed his lead, trying to show him she desired him just as much. 

The heat between them gradually built and they swayed together, kissing fervently. 

They broke apart only when the need for air could not be ignored any longer. Her lashes fluttered open as he leaned his forehead against hers and they stared at each other, taking in deep breaths. He dazedly registered the rise and fall of her breasts against his own heaving chest.

Charlotte’s fingers were curled in Sidney’s shirt, clutching, her heart pounding inside her chest. A sudden wave of possessiveness surged through her, a need to be close to him, to hold him, to be held by him and never let go. She wanted him to forget the woman who had only ever made his life a misery and focus on _her_ , the woman he loved and who loved him in return and who would never be so foolish as to let him go.

She rose on the tips of her toes and wound her arms around his neck, pressing herself even more into him, and claimed his mouth with hers.

Sidney needed no further invitation. He immediately tightened his hold around Charlotte and kissed her back ardently. He had no defences against her. She was like an enchantress who had bewitched him and he happily surrendered to the spell she had cast over him.

They sank into the kiss, quickly becoming lost in each other.

Sidney felt his knees wobble and feared they would buckle, making him collapse to the floor, taking Charlotte with him. _Chair_ , his brain managed to supply through the fog of her kisses, _behind you_. He staggered the necessary couple of steps back, drawing her with him, and fell into the chair, pulling her into his lap. 

The new angle and somehow closer proximity had a profound effect on them, and they resumed kissing with renewed ardour.

She slid one hand into his hair, holding him to her, while the fingertips of the other traced over his face, happy to explore. She stroked his brows, his cheek, his strong jawline, down to his chin, feeling the rasp of his stubble against the soft skin of her palm.

She wriggled and twisted in his lap, trying to fit more comfortably against him, and he inhaled sharply. “Charlotte,” he groaned against her lips, tightening his hold around the warm weight of her in his arms. “God.”

He broke the kiss and trailed his lips over her cheek to her ear, where he pressed a kiss just below her earlobe, earning a soft gasp. The scent of her skin was intoxicating. His lips moved down, pressing warm open-mouthed kisses against her throat. His teeth grazed the sensitive spot at the crook of her neck, and she shivered at the barrage of sensation. 

“Sidney,” she moaned breathlessly, pressing herself closer to him.

His lips found hers again and they were soon moaning and sighing into each other’s mouths. His hands coursed over her body, caressing her full yet lithe figure through her clothes, up and down her back, her shoulders, her arms. It was only as he drew his hands up her sides that he became aware of what was different. She wore no stays. She was in just her nightgown and robe.

This discovery had the effect of abruptly bringing him back to his senses. He pulled back and stared at her, trying to even out his breathing. It was a simple nightgown, its modest neckline visible beneath the overlapping layers of her robe. It did not reveal much except for a slight glimpse of her cleavage. There was nothing particularly enticing about it, except of course the fact that she wore it, which immediately made it a thousand times more tempting. 

Sensible, responsible Sidney was already reminding himself why he could not go any further. She was his betrothed, but more, she was an innocent. He could not get carried away and debauch her in his study — or _anywhere_ — until they were married. Despite the late hour of the night, one of the servants — or worse, Mary — might discover them. As it is, they were flirting with scandal by living under the same roof; he could not allow her to become indelibly stained by it.

Sidney the rascal, the rogue… sighed regretfully. And accepted that he had to be content for a few more days with imagining all the ways in which he _would_ ravish her after they were married.

“What is it?” Charlotte whispered. He had paused, fingers splayed over her ribs, tantalisingly close to her breast. She shifted in his arms, not sure whether she was glad or sorry that he stopped.

He ran his eyes over her, taking in her flushed cheeks, her big dark eyes looking a little dazed, her curls falling about her shoulders, her soft pink lips. And questioned his own sanity in deciding to stop. But it was obvious that going any further would be too much for her, no matter how willing she seemed.

He shook his head in response to her question and leaned forward to kiss her — a sweet, soothing, gentle kiss, more loving than passionate, which she returned just as tenderly.

They smiled at each other, shyly at first, which turned into giddy grins. After the madness of the past few days, especially this morning, and the lack of any unchaperoned time together, stealing an intimate moment to themselves felt like an incredible and much-deserved prize. 

She nudged his nose with hers and they nuzzled each other affectionately. He was just leaning in to kiss her again — he wasn’t going to start anything he couldn’t finish, but kiss her he could — when the loud creak of the stairs cut through the silence of the night.

“Mary!” they both exclaimed at the same time. 

Mary was the only one, other than the children, who always forgot about the noisy stair tread. Even Charlotte had remembered from her previous visit to Bedford Place. But Mary, who seldom visited London, was unfamiliar with the house and never remembered to avoid it as everyone else did.

Sidney surged to his feet, setting Charlotte on hers. “Quick!” he whispered, “Pretend you came to the library to get a book!”

“I _did_ come to the library to get a book!” Charlotte whispered back, making him snort with laughter. 

She turned to leave but he caught her wrist, spun her around and hauled her back into his arms, and kissed her soundly. He set her on her feet again, making sure she could stand, before turning her around and propelling her out of his study and into the library with a hand on her lower back.

He blew out the candle on his desk and hid behind the connecting door, leaning his head back against the wall, his heart pounding a mile a minute. He fervently hoped Mary would think Charlotte was just mussed from tossing and turning in bed, and not guess that her dishevelled hair and plump lips were a result of being halfway-ravished by him. 

In the library, it took Charlotte a moment to pull her reeling senses together. Her lips were still burning after Sidney’s bruising kiss and she hoped Mary wouldn’t notice how flushed she was or that she felt like she’d run for miles and was yet to get her breath back.

She had just picked up the candle she’d set down on the table earlier and raised it to one of the shelves, pretending to look at the titles on the spines of the books, when Mary walked in.

“Charlotte?”

“Mary!”

“What are you doing up at this time of the night?”

“I couldn’t sleep,” Charlotte explained, “So, I thought I’d borrow a book to read in bed.”

Mary’s expression instantly filled with sympathy. “Yes, it has been a rather trying day for you, has it not?” she said, her eyes full of guilt. “I hope you found something exciting enough to distract you?”

Mary certainly had a knack for making suggestive statements without having a clue as to what she was doing, Charlotte thought, trying not to blush at the memory of what she and Sidney had been up to in the adjoining study mere moments ago. She forced herself to think of something else, but the only thing that popped into her mind was another suggestive conversation with a clueless Mary about impressive seashells.

“Oh yes,” she gushed, blindly pulling out a thick volume from the nearest shelf.

Mary took it from her. “‘ _A treatise on the seashells of Great Britain & Ireland_’.” 

She looked doubtfully at Charlotte, who valiantly smothered her rising laughter and managed to look eagerly interested about her chosen book.

Mary peered at her. “Charlotte, my dear, are you sure you’re alright?” she asked, concerned. “You look a little flushed. I do hope you’re not coming down with something?”

“On no, I’m perfectly fine, Mary!” She replied, a little too spiritedly, her eyes involuntarily darting towards the half-ajar door that led to Sidney’s study. “That is, this morning was certainly upsetting, but I feel much better already.”

Mary stared at her. Her eyes flicked towards the door connecting to Sidney’s study. But it was in complete darkness and she detected nothing suspicious or untoward. 

“I couldn’t fall asleep either,” she told Charlotte. “I was just on my way to the kitchen for a glass of warm milk. Would you like to join me?”

The mention of the kitchen made Charlotte’s stomach rumble quietly. She remembered she had missed dinner because she hadn’t wanted to face Sidney or Mary and so had stayed back in her room. “I would like that very much.”

They proceeded out of the library, Charlotte clutching her weighty reading material. A step ahead of Mary, she did not notice the way her friend’s eyes swept the room and lingered one last time on the study door.

Sidney waited a full five minutes before leaving his hiding spot. He slipped out silently via the library, his ears straining for any sign that Mary and Charlotte might be returning from the kitchen. Hearing none, he swiftly crossed over to the staircase and made his way upstairs to his room, skipping the creaky stair tread and silently thanking it for warning him and Charlotte of Mary’s arrival. 

He sniggered inwardly at having to sneak about in his own home, but acknowledged that he would do so a hundred times over if it meant stealing a few private moments with Charlotte. 

As he got into bed for the second time that night, his mind dwelled upon their… meeting in the library. He could still feel the lingering touch of Charlotte’s lips on his, the warmth of her palm through the thin fabric of his shirt, the soft brush of her curls against his cheek. He mentally groaned but could not help but grin widely. Unlike before, he knew he’d be having only the most magnificent dreams for the rest of the night. That is if he managed to fall asleep!


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for more than 700 kudos! I'm always in awe of how much you all love this story. Writing this and reading your awesome, awesome comments has been one of the best things of the crazy year that was 2020. Thank you so much for staying with the story, and thank you especially for your patience with the gap in updates. Trust me when I say it frustrates me more than it does you that I can't update more frequently. I'm eternally grateful to you all!
> 
> Now on we get with the story. In this chapter, someone from Sanditon makes a reappearance... you didn't think he'd sit this one out entirely, did you?

* * *

_Continuing from the previous chapter, where Mary and Charlotte went to the kitchen to get a glass of warm milk (and have a chat, of course)_

Mary showed herself to be surprisingly adept in a kitchen. During all her time at Trafalgar House, Charlotte didn’t think she had ever seen her hostess have anything to do with cooking. But Mary was moving around completely at ease with this space, which looked far too advanced compared to the rustic country kitchen back at Heywood Hall. 

Mrs. Mullins, the Bedford Place housekeeper, had told Charlotte that Sidney had made many modernisations in the house upon acquiring it from Tom soon after his return from Antigua. He had gradually refurbished all the rooms, including the kitchen, which now boasted modern ovens and a new-fangled cooking range. Charlotte had never seen anything like it.

She lit a couple of more candles on the candle stand, cosily lighting the space as Mary deftly lit the stove and took down a gleaming copper saucepan from the hanging rack. She poured milk into it from a jug from the pantry and set the pot on the quickly warming stove. Within a few minutes, she was placing two steaming mugs of milk on the table as she and Charlotte sat down.

Charlotte had been too preoccupied in the library with hiding the signs of her… _meeting_ with Sidney, but now she could see Mary’s face clearly, and it was more drawn and weary than she had ever seen before. It seemed this was not her friend’s first sleepless night since the fire burnt down the terrace building.

It was rather obvious what must be keeping Mary up; while upset and angry with Tom for the calamity he had caused, she seemed to be taking all the blame for his actions upon her own shoulders.

Charlotte’s concern for her friend moved her to ask if she was alright, but in her head, it sounded like such a witless question. She was just wondering how to articulate it when Mary looked up and saw her expression.

She gave her Charlotte a kind smile and squeezed her hand. “Please do not worry about me, my dear. After your day today, it is I who should be worried about you.”

“I will be fine, Mary.” Charlotte wrapped her hands around the warm mug of milk. “The talk with Mrs. Campion was… quite a shock. But Mr. Crowe has gone to Willingden to warn my family and they are not helpless. I have to believe everything will be well. But I know you have been very troubled these past few days, even before today.”

Mary took a sip of milk. “I never liked Eliza Campion. Even when I met her ten years ago, when Sidney was courting her. She seemed insincere at best. There was something sly about her. And now she has become worse. But,” Mary grimaced, “She is not the cause of our problems. Tom is.”

“I agree Tom has made a grievous mistake. But we must look for a solution now. And I am sure we will arrive at one tomorrow. We will not give up.”

“Oh, my dear, as troubled as I am about the debt, I feel the same way as you. How could we not find a way out of it, with you and Sidney working so hard to make it happen? I trust Sidney and I trust you. Look at how much you have already done for Sanditon, for its people, for my family. For _your_ family, for you are already one of us. It only remains to be made official with your and Sidney’s wedding.”

They exchanged smiles, Mary’s indulgent, Charlotte’s shy.

“I am ever so glad you both found each other,” Mary continued. “Do you know, when I first met you in Willingden, it occurred to me how well suited you two might be. That is not why I invited you to Sanditon,” she clarified at Charlotte’s surprise, just as she had said to Sidney earlier that afternoon. “Sidney had become so distant, so aloof over the years. I feared a settled life was not in his nature anymore, not after his experiences. Now, I could not be happier for the both of you.”

She sighed. “I am afraid I cannot say the same for myself and Tom. His behaviour over the years, this obsession with Sanditon, his neglect of his family, his constant demands of others…” She took a deep breath as if bracing herself for Charlotte’s reaction. “I have decided that after the debt situation is resolved one way or another, after you and Sidney marry, to take the children and go to my parents’ house near Weymouth.”

Charlotte inhaled sharply, shocked. She carefully set her mug down on the table. “Oh, Mary.” This was significant news. “Are you– are you going to leave him?”

“Separate from him? I do not know. I do not know that I can. Or if I want to. But I need some time away from him. I cannot live with his inanities while he plays roughshod with his family, his children’s lives. Their futures.”

There was a long silence. 

“You must think the worst of me,” said Mary in a low voice. “How callous and disloyal to my husband, to my family I must seem. Giving up on them when you are fighting so hard to save that very family even before you marry Sidney. I know it might be a scandal, that people will talk. It might hurt Sanditon’s chances… but I don’t think–” Her breath hitched, she swallowed a sob. “I don’t think–”

“Mary, I am not thinking that at all!” Charlotte gripped her friend’s hand. “Please! I am aware of Tom’s… over-enthusiastic nature.” She had said as much to Sidney during their conversation on the balcony at the first ball, and had received a tongue-lashing for it. She did not think Mary was about to do the same. “And I have lived with you these past many weeks. I cannot of course claim to know the inner workings of your marriage, but I know what I have… observed and what you have shared with me. I cannot imagine it is easy for you.”

Mary sniffed and looked at her gratefully, her eyes wet, a tear clinging to her lashes. 

“I was actually thinking of an alternative,” Charlotte continued. 

A married woman visiting her parents was never cause for scandal, of course. But Mary was likely not thinking of visiting for just a few weeks, and in the current circumstances, it would certainly raise eyebrows in Sanditon and beyond. From what Charlotte understood from Sidney, Tom was currently the most despised person in the seaside town. His wife leaving him at such a time to ‘visit her parents’ would not reflect well upon him, but neither would it upon her. A woman would always bear the brunt of society’s censure and Mary would be scorned for not standing by her husband, no matter how much she too suffered from his actions.

“An alternative?”

“Yes. Would you like to come and stay in Willingden for some time?”

“Willingden?” repeated Mary in utter surprise.

“I’m sure my parents will be delighted to have you and the children. Alicia, Jenny, and Henry will have my brothers and sisters to play with, and there would be no dearth of people to take care of baby James. And there would be no cause for scandal since you would be visiting friends. Relatives, even, if Sidney prefers a short engagement and wishes to marry soon,” Charlotte added shyly.

“My dear, you do know that Sidney would marry you this very instant if he could!” Mary teased, causing her young friend’s face to colour up. “Oh, Charlotte, are you sure about Willingden? Your parents would not mind?”

“I am certain they will be most happy to have you!” she said eagerly. It was the truth and she was also keen to get away from the topic of herself and Sidney. She was still on edge from their unexpected and amorous… _meeting_ in his study.

“Very well. But you must write to them and ask them first. And Charlotte,” Mary hesitated, “Could you please not mention anything about this matter for now to Sidney?”

Mary knew this news would shock her brother-in-law and she did not know how he would view it. They had always been close — she had always felt a very maternal concern for him — and she was rather afraid that he might see her decision as a betrayal of the Parker family.

Charlotte nodded, not liking it but she knew and understood Mary’s reasons. “I will write to my parents in the morning,” she vowed.

But as events turned out, she did not have the time to write the letter to her parents at all.

**~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~**

_The next morning_

By the time it was the hour for breakfast, Sidney felt like half the day had already gone by. His manservant Morgan, blissfully unaware of his midnight… _meeting_ with Charlotte, had awoken him well before the sky had begun to lighten outside.

An express had come for him. Morgan, whom the night footman on duty had approached with the news, had debated whether to alert his employer immediately or to let him sleep a while longer. While Mr. Parker was not the sort to stay on in bed without reason, he would not welcome being awakened before dawn. But the message must obviously be urgent considering it had come by express. And so Morgan had gone to rouse Mr. Parker, who would certainly not appreciate being kept in the dark about it.

Sidney had been so deeply asleep that it had taken him a few minutes to orient himself, to remember where he was and the circumstances of his life at the moment that warranted this intrusion at the crack of dawn.

It turned out to be a note from Arthur.

Before leaving Sanditon to come to London, Sidney had taken Arthur aside for a private word. He had asked for help, something he had never done with his younger brother before. He needed Arthur to keep an eye on Tom and ensure he did not do anything rash. Tom neither had any patience nor the ability to make rational decisions, as their current predicament had proven. With the spectre of the debt hanging above his head, there was no telling what outlandish idea he might contrive and what foolish action he might unthinkingly take.

Arthur had looked grave and apprehensive, which Sidney correctly interpreted as worry that one of his brothers was asking him to spy on the other, and that he might not be up to the task, even as he recognised the need for such a measure.

“I don’t know what Tom might do, Arthur,” Sidney had said, trying not to sound impatient. In truth, he admired the seriousness he saw for the first time in his younger brother’s eyes, an understanding of how bad things really were. And he was grateful that there was another who comprehended the gravity of their circumstances. “I cannot tell you what exactly to look out for. But he might take decisions that might worsen our situation, and we cannot afford that. Keep a note of any people he meets, any particular correspondents from whom he receives letters. And just… don’t let him do anything stupid. Like asking the labourers to restart work at the burnt terrace or something.”

Arthur had nodded, gulped once, and pronounced solemnly: “I won’t let you down, Sidney.” 

Sidney had asked Arthur to write to him as soon as he noticed anything suspicious. Arthur had gone a step further and written to him every day, keeping him apprised of the happenings in Sanditon, even things that seemed mundane. Just to be on the safe side. As a result, Arthur’s letters had been more full of information than he could have known.

Tom had not been up to anything suspicious; in fact he had not really been up to anything at all. He spent his entire time in his study, mostly staring mournfully at the Sanditon town model. The only correspondence he had seemed to be with a Mr. Sterling, but Sidney could not recollect any such man in their acquaintance and could not fathom who this might be. A potential investor, perhaps? 

Arthur could shed no further light on the matter either, as he had only recognised the handwriting on the envelopes Tom received, and had casually asked him who they were from. He had not been privy to the contents of any of the letters. Sidney had asked his accountant Mr. Wetherby and Mr. Cartwright, his man of business, to make enquiries about Mr. Sterling, but neither of them had come up with anything so far.

Georgiana, however, was still upset about Sidney and Charlotte’s engagement. Not having given up on trying to make friends with her, Arthur had taken to going for a walk on the beach with her every morning. She was impatient and scathing with him most of the time, but Arthur felt she might gradually be coming around. He had noticed that she did not hesitate, and even seemed eager, for their daily walks. It appeared that compared to Mrs. Griffiths and the Beaufort sisters, she considered him to be the lesser evil. 

Arthur and Georgiana often saw Young Stringer in the distance, sometimes walking alone on the beach, sometimes on his way to the cliffs or towards the lanes and paths that led off into the countryside around Sanditon. But he did not speak to them, nor did he acknowledge them beyond a slight nod in their direction. There was a bleakness about him after his father’s death and even enquiring after his wellbeing felt like one was intruding upon his grief.

Arthur had attended Old Mr. Stringer’s funeral along with Tom and Diana. But while James Stringer and the workers had not minded Arthur and Diana’s presence, they had glowered blackly at Tom. It seemed they held his refusal to keep his promise to employ more workers and better equipment as the reason why Old Mr. Stringer had felt the need to work late, which had ultimately led to his death. None of the workers had turned up at any of the construction sites in town for the past three days and the rubble of the burnt Waterloo Terrace remained as it was.

And now Arthur had sent Sidney an express, which he had opened with severe trepidation. For why else would Arthur contact him so if it wasn’t something calamitous or urgent? Only, the message said Arthur was coming to London with Tom and Diana that morning. 

Tom had received a letter — Arthur did not know from whom — but it caused him to jump up excitedly, proclaiming, “We are saved! We are saved!” He had refused to tell Arthur what the letter said or who it was from. Instead, he had insisted he needed to go to London immediately to meet Sidney. Arthur had, in turn, insisted that he and Diana would accompany Tom, and managed to delay their older brother long enough to find the courier and send Sidney this urgent warning. That way, he would not be caught off guard when his siblings unexpectedly appeared on his doorstep. They would arrive in a few hours, possibly by breakfast.

Sidney had still been processing this information a couple of hours later when he had another early visitor. Mr. Wetherby had apologised for disturbing him at the impolite hour of seven o’clock in the morning, but he had discovered some pertinent information that he felt Mr. Parker must know as soon as possible.

When Mr. Wetherby had compiled the list of Tom’s creditors, unpaid invoices and bills, and matched them to the receipts or payment slips with the amounts owed to each, he had found something peculiar. Or rather, he had not found something that ought to have been there. The money that Tom had taken from his children’s accounts did not seem to have a corresponding document to indicate where it had been used or to whom it had been given. Mr. Wetherby had checked and rechecked multiple times, to no avail. No such document had appeared among his files and papers. It was possible that Mr. Sidney might have it at Bedford Place, or else it might be with Mr. Tom in Sanditon. At any rate, Mr. Sidney must be apprised of this information at the earliest and so Mr. Wetherby had presented himself at Bedford Place as early as could be permitted without having to rouse his employer from his bed.

Sidney had listened to his accountant’s concerns, partly alarmed, partly resigned. The compounded magnitude of Tom’s financial blunders was so vast by this point that he was not surprised when yet another one came to light. Yet every new ill-thought out decision that could be laid at his brother’s feet felt like another boulder being added to the burden on his own shoulders and he felt bowed under the weight.

About three quarters of an hour later, just as Sidney had seen off Mr. Wetherby after a perturbing meeting, Charlotte had come downstairs, followed a few minutes later by Mary. The two women had been up quite late the previous night, talking, and had come down later than usual, especially for Charlotte.

Wanting to think through the newly-learnt information before he divulged anything, Sidney waited until the women had seated themselves at the breakfast table with their plates — Charlotte on his right and Mary at his left — before sharing what he could share.

“I received an express from Arthur this morning.”

Both women looked up, alerted by his tone.

“He is arriving in London this morning with Tom and Diana.”

“ _This morning_ ?”

“Yes. We should expect them soon.”

“Has something happened?” asked Charlotte. 

“Arthur seems to think so, but he could not say what that might be. It was Tom who insisted on coming down.”

They glanced at Mary, who was staring at her plate, her mind far away.

Mary was feeling quite a multitude of emotions. Had Tom perhaps found a way to resolve their situation? Had he come up with some idea to pay off the debt? He was a clever and persuasive man, there was no doubt about that. Often, it was his sheer enthusiasm and belief in himself that made others believe in his vision too. She knew that if he truly put his mind to it, he was well capable of coming up with a solution himself. Was that why he was coming to London in such a tearing hurry? Had she misjudged him? 

Part of her was instinctively glad to be able to see him again. However, he was her husband, she knew well his personality. She knew, too, how he had changed over the years. And so, the rational voice in her mind cautioned her to be realistic. She could hope but she must not _expect_.

Noting that Mary was preoccupied, Charlotte asked Sidney in a low voice, “Was that who it was just now, who you saw off? The courier?”

Sidney shot a glance at his sister-in-law. “No,” he said, equally quietly. “That was Mr. Wetherby, my accountant. The courier came at dawn.”

Charlotte’s gaze sharpened. What could be so urgent that Mr. Wetherby would call on Sidney this early in the morning? But Sidney gave a small shake of his head, which she understood to mean that he did not want to say anything about it just now.

Mary remained lost in her thoughts until Nurse brought down the children, including baby James. All three adults were glad of the distraction. 

To everyone’s surprise, baby James stretched out his arms towards Charlotte, clearly expressing his wish to sit with her this morning. She took him easily, settling him in her lap with an arm around him while she tackled the rest of her breakfast one-handed. Between them, she and Sidney kept James and Alicia occupied, with Sidney making funny faces at James throughout the meal, earning smiles and giggles from him and the other children.

This left Mary to be distracted by Henry — who wanted to sit next to his Uncle Sidney, requiring his mother to move down the table by one place — and Jenny. The two regaled her with a long story about the frog in the garden pond and a paper boat. Thus, the rest of breakfast passed in a much more pleasant fashion, with the children’s voices dominating the conversations. 

But Mary was not quite so distracted that she did not notice the silent communication occurring between Sidney and Charlotte right under the children’s noses. They hadn’t forgotten Mary was at the table, but they seemed to believe she was so thoroughly occupied with Jenny and Henry that she wasn’t paying attention to them. But she had not missed the way Sidney had seemed to be struck dumb for a moment at the delightful sight of Charlotte with a baby in her arms. For a moment, his very heart was writ upon his face. Nor did they realise she was fully aware of their secret smiles, the discreet touches, of Sidney leaning closer to Charlotte to say something in a low voice only meant for her ears. Fortunately for baby James, he was too young to understand that his uncle was flirting with his soon-to-be aunt.

They took their time at breakfast, having nowhere else to be until they left for the meeting at Lord Babington’s house at ten o’clock. Internally, all three wondered when Tom, Arthur and Diana would arrive.

**~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~**

They did not have to wait for long.

They were just finishing breakfast when there was a loud commotion in the entrance hall as Tom burst into the house, Arthur and Diana just behind.

“Sidney!” Tom’s shrill bellow pierced the tranquil quiet of the morning. “Sidney!”

His usual exuberance, which had been absent the last time they were all together in Sanditon, seemed to have returned in full. His voice rang throughout the house. “ _Sidney_ !”

“Papa!” 

“Papa is here!” 

Alicia, Jenny, and Henry had leapt from their chairs the moment they’d heard Tom’s voice. They reached him before he could turn for the study, eager to greet the parent who, although they had not missed much during the four-day separation, they were still happy to see.

“Yes, yes.” Tom patted his children’s heads absently, barely looking at them, barely even noticing his wife, who had come out of the breakfast parlour, Charlotte and Sidney just steps behind her.

Arthur and Diana followed Tom in. The youngest Parker sibling was uncharacteristically quiet and nervous, for once worried about matters other than his own health concerns or the availability of buttered toast or port. He could not shake the feeling that the conversation between his older brothers was not going to be an amicable one.

In contrast, Diana was as flustered and overwrought as ever. She spotted Mary and immediately advanced on her sister-in-law with an outpouring of her grievances. “Oh Mary, the journey was so arduous! I really thought I was about to expire! We had to drive on until late last night and leave the inn again by dawn this morning because of the urgent nature of Tom’s business with Sidney. But, oh! I was so certain we would be set upon by highwaymen!”

Sidney scowled upon hearing this. While he himself was often impatient with Diana and Arthur’s hypochondriacal tendencies, which he either laughed at or dismissed, he would never do anything to put them in any actual danger. Highway robberies were rare now as compared to the centuries past, but their threat was not entirely absent, especially when one travelled without any kind of weapon or extra security. He was extremely displeased with Tom’s patent unconcern for their siblings’ safety.

Mary calmed her sister-in-law and turned to her husband. “Tom. What are you doing here?” Her tone was perfectly neutral; no one could know the mixture of anxiety and dread roiling inside her.

But Tom’s focus had zeroed in on his brother to the exclusion of everything else. “Sidney, there you are! I have the greatest news for you. Come!” He beckoned imperiously, turning towards the study. “We shall speak later, my dear,” he added dismissively to Mary, who stiffened.

Sidney’s entire posture had gone taut. He grit his teeth against the spurt of anger and vexation that, of late, seemed to be his default reaction to being in Tom’s presence. It was only the anxiety he saw in Arthur’s eyes and the press of Charlotte’s fingers against his that made him tamp down his irritation.

“We’ll talk in here.” He turned the other way and headed for the back parlour. 

“I had thought to speak with you alone, Sidney,” Tom protested. “This is Sanditon business, there’s no need to involve the others.”

Mary’s heart sank a little, because contrary to her hopes, her words before leaving Sanditon seemed to have had no effect whatsoever on her husband.

“I think anything that is Sanditon business now concerns all of us, does it not?” Sidney countered. “Besides, if you have good news, I’m sure we all want to hear it.”

“Really, I must insist!” Tom continued to object, but no one paid him any heed. They had already begun moving to the back parlour and he had no choice but to go along. 

Mary quickly signalled to Nurse to take the children upstairs and asked Mrs. Mullins to have tea sent in.

In the parlour, the women and Arthur took their seats, Diana wilting into one of the comfortable armchairs, while Sidney leant his elbow against the mantelpiece. Merridew the butler himself arrived bearing a heavily laden tea tray, which he set on the table. His inscrutable face gave away nothing but his sharp eyes immediately gauged in the situation. He would alert the rest of the household staff and ensure that the family remained undisturbed for as long as they needed. He exchanged a quiet, assuring glance with Mr. Sidney.

Sidney waited until Merridew had left the room, pulling the door closed behind him. “Well, Tom?”

In reply, Tom pulled out a folded letter from his waistcoat pocket. Considering its creased state, it had obviously been read many times over since he first received it.

“You will see, brother!” he declared jovially, although his face betrayed a hint of nervous anxiety. “The solution to save Sanditon! And what’s more, make it prosper!”

Sidney took the letter, checking first the name at the bottom to see who it was from. No one missed the way he stilled, only his eyes moving as he scanned the paper. When he finished, he raised his head and his eyes were so black and his jaw clenched so tight that Tom took an involuntary step back.

Charlotte and Mary rose to their feet in concern.

“What is it?” asked Mary.

“It is a brilliant notion, is it not, Sidney?” Tom remarked, still maintaining his cheerful demeanour, although everyone could see the strain in his façade. 

Sidney said nothing, merely stared at Tom. He wondered when his kind and caring older brother had ceased to feel like a brother at all and turned into this stranger — a person he barely recognised anymore. 

With a muted, impatient exclamation, Mary took the letter from Sidney’s hand. A ripple of emotion passed over her face as she read it and when she raised her face, her anger matched Sidney’s. “You are despicable!” she spat at Tom.

“What is it?” demanded Diana. “Tell us what it says, Mary! My poor nerves are already quite shredded, I cannot bear the suspense any longer!”

“It is a letter from Mrs. Campion,” Mary informed them all grimly. “Offering to marry Sidney so that he can use her fortune to pay off Tom’s debts and save the family and Sanditon.”

She turned back to glare at her husband, who did not meet her eye.

“We are already aware of Mrs. Campion’s offer. There is no need to resort to such methods. We have a meeting with Lord Babington and Lady Susan this morning where everything will be settled,” Sidney said with a confidence and hope he prayed was justified. 

He and Charlotte had never discussed what they’d do if things didn’t work out, if an offer like Eliza’s was the only solution. But Sidney refused to entertain that line of thought. He could not afford to think like that. Losing Charlotte was not an option.

“Besides, I’m not interested. Have you forgotten that Charlotte and I are engaged?”

A look of panic passed over Tom’s face. “But Sidney...” He seemed truly taken aback that Sidney wasn’t eager to fall in with this brilliant plan. “Surely you can see that this is the answer to all our problems?”

“No.”

“Sidney–”

“This is the answer to all _your_ problems, Tom, not mine. I am not the one who has brought our family on the verge of financial ruin. Although somehow, as always, the responsibility for fixing your problems has fallen to _me_! I can’t believe you even had the gall to bring this to me! Do you really expect Charlotte and I to break our engagement?”

Sidney’s voice had increased in volume as he spoke, and there was silence when he finished. He took a few deep breaths, forcing his temper back under control. It was futile to get angry at Tom because it was like hitting your head against a wall; it would be you who would get injured but it made no difference to the wall.

Arthur and Diana watched warily, the latter having forgotten all about her complaints in the face of her brothers’ argument. This was evidently far more serious than she could have imagined. Mary had shoved the offending letter aside, not realising it had landed in Charlotte’s hands.

“Come Sidney,” Tom’s tone was one of enforced jocularity. He had barely heard any of his brother’s words. All he knew was that Sidney was refusing to do as required of him in this eminently sensible solution, and that he must be made to see sense. “Let’s be reasonable here. Surely you see that you are in the best position to bring this about. And what could be a better solution than–”

“A better solution would be you having the sense to buy the bloody insurance in the first place!” Sidney snapped, all his resolve of mere moments ago to not get angry at Tom flying out of the window. “And you didn’t see fit to mention even once that you hadn’t!”

“You only need it in an emergency,” Tom protested.

“What do you think this is?!” Sidney exploded. “What kind of a fool are you? If you’d told me you needed money for the insurance, we could have found a way to arrange it, Tom! But you didn’t mention it even once!”

Everything he had wanted to say to his brother back in Sanditon, when they had learnt about the lack of insurance, but had been too angry and panicked to say, came spewing out now in a torrent of anger.

“Not when you asked me to speak to the banks to extend your credit, not when we tried to promote the regatta at the ball in London, not even when you went on about not having enough money to pay the workers! It ought to have been your first priority, but you never even intended to get any! And you deliberately hid this from me!”

“Well now,” blustered Tom, “What’s done is done. I made a mistake and no one feels worse about it than myself. But we must look to save ourselves now, and this is the best way.”

But he didn’t sound sorry or regretful at all.

“The best way for you, perhaps. You stand to lose nothing. What about me? You would have me marry a woman I do not love, and set aside the one I do?”

“Don’t be daft Sidney. You love Eliza!”

“I do not.”

“Yes, you do,” Tom declared with a laugh, as if Sidney was sporting with him. “And you have loved her for a decade!”

“No, Tom. It’s Charlotte I love, not Mrs. Campion. And nor was I in love with her for a decade.” 

Sidney tried to be patient, to remember that his older brother would not be aware of how his outlook on love had changed since he met Charlotte. To Tom, just as to everyone else other than Mary, Babington, and Lady Susan, Sidney’s proposal of marriage to Charlotte must have appeared entirely out of the blue. They did not know of his and Charlotte’s journey into love. Nor would Tom know of the realisations Sidney had come to regarding his previous feelings for Eliza Campion. 

“I let her decision to throw me over govern my actions for many years, believing it to be some form of lasting attachment. But, in truth, whatever feelings I may have harboured for her soured a long time ago.”

“You love Eliza,” Tom insisted stubbornly. “I have seen it. At Mrs. Maudsley’s rout in London. You were positively revivified that night! I even pointed it out to Charlotte, did I not, Charlotte? So happy you were to be reunited with her!”

Sidney’s gaze shifted to Charlotte with a guilty pang. That magical night had ended on a distressing note for her and it would forever haunt him that his behaviour was the reason. But it seemed it he was not alone in causing her pain that night. Although this knowledge, rather than assuaging his conscience, only made him feel worse.

Charlotte’s eyes indeed held a wealth of hurt at Tom’s words, and Sidney inwardly seethed. Tom seemed entirely oblivious — or uncaring — of his unpardonable rudeness towards her. But Charlotte met Sidney’s gaze steadily, and he understood that any anger she felt was not because of him. Their conversation in his study the previous night had cleared the air between them. 

“And you invited her to the regatta!” Tom continued, still raving about Mrs. Campion.

“I did not, _you_ did.”

“In the hopes that you might rekindle your relationship with her, and you did! And before that you spent the whole week with her in London!” 

“I did not spend the week with her. Mrs. Campion means nothing to me anymore.”

“But don’t you see?” Tom beseeched. “Eliza’s money would help us now! Sanditon would be saved and would prosper! Is it now too much for me to ask for my brother's help in such a matter?”

“Help?” Sidney scoffed. “You’re not asking for my _help_. You’re asking me to sacrifice my happiness and shackle myself for the rest of my life to a selfish and scheming woman of whom I have no good opinion. All so that you can get your hands on her money and save your own hide. To fix a mistake _you_ caused by being reckless and stupid. And I suppose you think you will then have access to her entire wealth to finance all your grand plans for Sanditon. Are you hearing yourself, Tom?”

“I told you,” replied Tom heatedly, “I made a mistake, but it’s in the past. No one feels more guilty about it than I do.”  


“But not guilty enough to shoulder the consequences yourself,” Sidney pointed out. “Your mistake might be in the past for you Tom. Although I do not see how you can claim that when it happened not five days ago and we are doing all we can to fix it. But it is I who you expect to make the sacrifice, my future happiness and Charlotte’s that you expect us to give up for you.”

“What sacrifice? You love Eliza! I’m proposing no hardship on you!”

Sidney swore out loud and threw up his hands in frustration at Tom’s wilfulness. He turned away, fists clenching. He had never before felt such an urge to hit someone. That his own brother provoked this instinct in him might have once surprised him, but not anymore.

“Tom!” Mary cried, “Why are you being so obtuse?” She had listened to the brothers’ conversation, increasingly appalled at her husband’s unreasonable expectations and inconsiderate behaviour.

Tom ignored his wife. “Sidney,” he sighed, as if his brother was a recalcitrant child whom he was trying to coax into doing something for his own good. “Come now. Surely you see that it is time to let go of this pretence of courting Charlotte? Haven’t you punished Eliza enough?”

Sidney whipped around to face his brother, an expression of utmost incredulousness on his face. “ _What_ ?”

“I know you were hurt by her decision to marry Mr. Campion. But surely you are not still holding that against her after all these years? At the detriment to the happiness of you both?”

The words coming out of Tom’s mouth were so unbelievable that Sidney was certain it was he who was hearing entirely wrong. He turned, dumbfounded, to Charlotte and Mary and his siblings, thinking that he might get some clue from them about what Tom really meant. But they looked just as stunned and mystified as him.

Surprisingly, it was Arthur who broke the silence. “ _What_ are you on about, Tom?” There was a note of impatience in his voice that was seldom heard from him, and rarer still to hear it directed towards their older brother. 

“It is far past the time for Sidney to end this charade! He finally has a chance at happiness with his dearest love, and instead he is doing everything he can to jeopardize it! Not to mention putting Charlotte’s reputation in grave danger!” 

“But… but why do you say Sidney and Charlotte’s engagement is a charade?” Diana exclaimed, the only one in the room genuinely more confused than angry.

“Because I know my brother, and he would never be disloyal or inconstant with his feelings. It is Eliza he loves, not Charlotte.”

“Oh for heaven’s sake!” Mary cried out furiously. “Sidney does not love Eliza Campion! Repeating it over and over again like some… _parrot_! isn’t going to make it true, no matter how much you wish it! Get that in your stupid, thick head, Tom! And I think you have insulted Charlotte enough!”

Tom gaped at his wife’s tirade. 

He had not expected any resistance to his plan, never mind a flat out refusal, not from his brother and certainly not from his wife. In fact, quite the opposite; he had truly believed Sidney would jump at the chance to reunite with his one true love. And Mary, his dear Mary, would of course support it — _him_ — wholeheartedly. She would be so proud that Tom had singlehandedly saved the family from ruin with his brilliant stroke of genius. After all, Eliza had just given him the kernel of the idea; it would be him who would be envisioning it and bringing it to life.

Yet here was Sidney stubbornly insisting he didn’t love Eliza when nothing could be further from the truth. Indeed, Tom had realised that he had underestimated how badly Sidney had been hurt by Eliza’s rejection ten years ago. And it was not just his heart, his pride was equally badly injured too. Only that could explain the lengths to which he had gone. Pretending he had given his heart to another, pretending he was engaged to another — what else could it be for but to make Eliza suffer the same way she once did to him? Was that not proof of his deep, abiding feelings for her? 

Tom had not taken Sidney’s obvious distraction with Charlotte seriously because he did not see it as anything more than a harmless flirtation. More, he had done all he could to discourage it, had he not, once Eliza had appeared on the scene? Asking Charlotte to dance at Mrs. Maudsley’s ball just as Eliza arrived, ensuring Sidney was free to talk to her. Keeping Sidney away from Charlotte at the midsummer ball even though Eliza hadn’t been present. He was aware of Charlotte’s disappointment on both instances, but that could not be helped. Better she feel some mild discontent now rather than acute heartache later.

Even had the Parker family’s circumstances been different, Tom would not wish his brother to marry Charlotte. She was an absolutely dear girl, invaluable when it came to keeping his papers organised. But Lady Denham was right, she had neither money nor connections. If Sidney had to marry, Tom would ensure it would be to someone of influence, who could help Sanditon’s prospects. And what luck to have the shockingly wealthy Eliza, Sidney’s true love, become a widow and free to marry him — just when they needed her money, no less!

But he had forgotten that his brother was the honourable sort. Sidney and Charlotte had become good friends after they overcame their initial animosity. His engagement to her must not be a pretence after all. He must have truly asked her to marry him, out of fondness of the friendship that had developed between them, as it would be an advantageous situation for her. He had always had a deep streak of protectiveness towards those dear to him. Perhaps they had become engaged before they came to London looking for Miss Lambe. Yes, that explained it. And now that Eliza was back, Sidney could not in good conscience ask Charlotte to break off the engagement. 

But engaged was not married and Tom was not going to let such a flimsy reason stand in the way of Sanditon’s prospects — and his brother’s happiness, of course.

“Sidney, it is very noble of you to offer to marry Miss Heywood, but I must make you aware that there is truly no need.”

Sighs and exclamations of exasperation erupted from his wife and siblings.

“What fresh nonsense is this, Tom?”

“It is not nonsense!” Tom stepped forward as if to clasp his brother’s shoulder, but thought the better of it at his black glare. “I understand why you felt the need to offer for her. With eleven younger siblings, it is as Lady Denham said: she will need to marry well. But the Heywoods are not in any sort of dire straits, Sidney, as Mary will confirm. I can assure you that you do not have to marry Charlotte. Sanditon has far more need of you!” 

Sidney’s blood was boiling at Tom’s blatant attempts to twist the situation to suit his wishes. He could feel himself trembling with anger. It was so intense that for a moment he felt afraid of himself, of the violence he knew himself capable of unleashing on his brother.

“Besides, Charlotte has a tendre for Young Stringer,” Tom continued on, seemingly unaware of the very real danger he was in. “Is that not true, Charlotte? A handsome young couple you both made at the regatta, almost as handsome as Sidney and Eliza!” He smiled at her as if this was the greatest news, but no one missed the desperate look he sent her.

“No,” said Charlotte simply, practically her first words since Tom had barged into the house. She had gone stiller and stiller as the two brothers argued, until she felt like a statue. She could not think right now of the hurtful and dismissive way in which Tom spoke about her. It was only Sidney’s unwavering refusal to submit to Tom’s demands, and the knowledge that he needed her support, that gave her the strength to stay in the room. Was this the sort of relentless badgering that he had faced for years from his brother, who would not stop until he had worn him down, guilted him into doing as he wished? If so, any apology she had made to him so far was severely inadequate.

Tom faltered for a moment but recovered and turned brightly to Sidney again. “Well, no matter. I am sure Charlotte would not mind breaking off your eng–”

Sidney lunged. He could see nothing for the red haze of murderous wrath that surrounded him, hear nothing except the loud pounding of his own heartbeat in his ears, with Tom’s voice echoing all around it. And he knew nothing except that he wanted to silence his brother’s ceaseless and infuriating harping about Sanditon and Eliza Campion, and his insults to Charlotte.

But Sidney was restrained by the unexpectedly swift and brave intervention of Arthur, who leapt to his feet and pushed himself between his brothers, keeping the second from reaching the first. Even then, his efforts might not have been sufficient had Charlotte too not sprung into action at the same time. It was her hands on Sidney’s chest, her soft “Sidney, no, please!” that made him abruptly stop in his steps.

It still was not enough. Neither Arthur nor Charlotte nor Sidney himself was strong enough to entirely hold him back. He had already swung his arm and momentum sent his fist into Tom’s face. 

Diana and Mary gasped.

It was nowhere near as powerful a punch as Sidney might have wished or what he was capable of; indeed, it was barely a graze, considering he had inflicted far more damage on his opponents in bare-knuckle boxing matches. Still, the jab split Tom’s lip, immediately rendering his mouth red.

Tom staggered back, too stunned by his brother’s action to register the sting of the bleeding cut. He gaped at Sidney as he brought his hand up to his mouth, and when it came away with blood on his fingers, he looked thoroughly shaken. He had never imagined his brother would actually attempt to punch him. 

He turned to his wife and siblings, who seemed as shocked as him. But he found no support from them. Arthur was still watching Sidney in wary concern, Diana just stood there, utterly discombobulated, while Mary watched him grimly and did not even move to comfort him.

It took Sidney a long moment to bring his fury under control. Charlotte held his hands the entire time, grounding him, and he gripped them back. She could feel the storm raging inside him, which he seemed to contain through sheer will. 

Gradually, he unclenched his jaw, loosened his grip on Charlotte’s fingers, allowed his muscles to relax and found himself in control of his emotions once again. He did not know how he felt about his actions. Part of him was ashamed at having given into the urge to resort to violence. But if he felt no satisfaction or vindication at having hit his brother, he certainly felt no regret either. Still, he could not bring himself to look at Tom, nor at Mary, Arthur or Diana. 

Nor could he make eye contact with Charlotte. It was her judgement he feared the most. He kept his head lowered, conscious only of her fingers in his. 

When he finally gained the courage to meet her eyes, he registered her troubled expression. 

“Charlotte, what is it?” Mary asked at the same time. She too had noticed the perturbed looks her young friend had sent towards Tom.

Charlotte hesitated. Sidney’s emotions were roiling under the surface and it would take very little to set him off again. But listening to his and Tom’s conversation and reading Eliza Campion’s letter had sparked a realisation. She was not sure, however, if she should reveal it now. Tom had made it clear he saw her as an outsider, not someone he would welcome into the Parker clan. If she spoke up now, it would truly put her at odds with him, which was the last thing she wanted. He was not only her host, but the brother of the man she was to marry and the patriarch of the family. But the events of the past few days, weeks, had made one thing clear — her loyalty lay first with Sidney and then Mary. If that worsened Tom’s opinion of her…

“Charlotte?”

She squared her shoulders and raised her eyes to Sidney. “What Mr. Parker said… about your reasons for pretending to courting me and not really wanting to marry me… Mrs. Campion made similar arguments to me in the park yesterday.”

Sidney held her gaze as he processed this, as the meaning of her words sank in. When he remembered what Charlotte had narrated to him the previous night, what the two women had talked about, his head came up like a hound scenting prey, unable to believe the implications.

“Why were you walking with Mrs. Campion in the park?” Arthur asked Charlotte curiously.

“She intercepted me outside the house as I returned from visiting Lady Susan and insisted we go to the park because she wanted to have a word with me. She knew all about the debt, and well, she wanted me to convey her offer of marriage to Sidney.”

Arthur and Diana looked shocked.

Sidney’s fury was back, but instead of his usual aggressiveness, there was an iciness to it, which somehow made him scarier. “You have been writing to Mrs. Campion,” he said to Tom.

The guilt on Tom’s instantly face gave him away. 

“Sterling!” Arthur exclaimed suddenly. “Of course!”

“What?” Charlotte asked, confused.

“ _Sterling_!” Arthur repeated, as if that explained everything. To everyone but Charlotte, it did. “Sterling was Eliza Campion’s maiden name.” 

The mysterious Mr. Sterling who had been corresponding with Tom all these days was not a “Mr.” but a former Ms. Sterling.

“You have been writing to her ever since you returned from London.” Mary said to her husband as realisation dawned. “I remember seeing letters for you from a Mr. Sterling. You received them almost every day. Have you have been plotting this with her all along?”

She felt sickened.

Tom said nothing. There was nothing he could say. Denying it would not help.

“Was it she who put these ridiculous fantasies in your head, Tom, or did you invent them yourself and share them with her?” Sidney asked. “Is this why you are so adamant that I marry her? Because she has offered you her fortune in exchange for me? Have you promised me to the highest bidder?”

The derision dripping from his brother’s voice, coming on the heels of Mary’s deep disgust and disappointment, was too much. Tom could stay quiet no longer.

“I paid your debts!” he roared, abandoning his mask of brotherly civility. “I helped you out when you needed it! If it weren’t for me you would have died in some godforsaken boxing match or drowned in your drink! I saved you, damn you! But when I need your help, you are quick to wash your hands off the responsibility!”

Sidney took a sharp intake of breath and stepped back. He was very cognisant of what Tom had done for him a decade ago, how he had saved him. If it weren’t for his older brother, he might have indeed been a corpse sooner or later. Which was why he could not understand how Tom could want him to marry Mrs. Campion, the very woman who had caused his downward spiral in the first place.

And surely Tom could not hold that over Sidney's head forever? How many favours did he think Sidney owed him in return? Had he not done enough for Tom, compelled always by the guilt he felt at the self-destructive path he had taken, which had required him to be rescued by his brother? Surely the sacrifice Tom asked for in return — of Sidney’s very happiness, of his whole future, of _Charlotte_ — was far too much? 

“I will ever be grateful for your support back then, Tom,” he said quietly. “But my debts weren’t even a twentieth of what you have incurred. And if we are to talk of figures alone, then I have repaid you several times over, have I not? I have given you funds, invested in your enterprise although I had no hope of ever seeing those sums ever again, let alone any profits. I even bought the Parker houses from you.”

“The houses!” Tom ranted, “I should have never let you purchase them from me! I should have put them up for sale, I might have got a far bigger sum from another buyer!”

“You would not have, I assure you. I paid you more than their worth. Any other buyer would have driven a far harder bargain. Besides, they are the Parker family houses. They have been in our family since grandfather’s time. I could not let them be sold off, even if you have no such qualms.”

“Sidney has always helped you, Tom,” Mary could not help but try desperately to make her husband see reason. “To the best of his abilities. But you cannot expect him to just _give_ his money to you.”

“And why not?” Tom fired back. “Why should I not expect my brother to share his wealth with me? With his family? He inherited a fortune from our uncle and we saw not a farthing of it. Instead, he saw fit to give Babington a share!”

“Did you think I wouldn’t help my friend?” Sidney hissed, stepping right up to his brother’s face. “Babington’s family faced penury because his feckless father gambled away their wealth and estate, and left him and his mother and sister to pick up the pieces. Just as you are now doing to us! And for your information, Babington has repaid the entire sum in full.”

There was a grim pause. 

“So, this is how it is to be then,” said Tom, facing the others. In his panic about the magnitude of his debts and the potential loss of his grand dreams for Sanditon, he saw nothing other than his younger brother being selfish and petulant and refusing to help him. “You will see me in debtors’ prison, and Mary and the children in the poorhouse or on the streets? All because you want to marry Charlotte? What about your duty, your responsibility to this family?”

The unfairness of this accusation was so great that Sidney had no response. 

But Mary had had enough. She was aghast at Tom’s behaviour. This person before her, this raving madman could not be her husband. This was not the sweet, kind Tom she had married a decade ago. 

“His duty?” she blazed. “His responsibility? I did not marry Sidney! The welfare of your wife and children is your responsibility, Tom! Do you have to be reminded of that? Why didn’t you buy the insurance if you were so worried about our security? Why weren’t you more careful with our money? Why did you sink it all into Sanditon? _Why didn’t you think of us when you gambled with our futures_?” she finished desperately.

“I’m doing this for you! For us! For the children!”

“No,” said Mary coldly, though her heart was breaking inside. “Everything you have done is for yourself, for your vanity. For your impossible dreams of Sanditon.”

Tom opened his mouth to respond but she cut across him. 

“And now you expect me to be glad that you want to secure our safety at the cost of Sidney and Charlotte’s happiness? I will not allow your selfishness to destroy their lives!” 

“Neither of you have ever had any faith in me! In my vision for Sanditon! After all the sacrifices I have made–”

“The sacrifices _you_ have made?” Mary laughed bitterly, unkindly. “What sacrifices are those, pray tell?” When Tom remained silent and red-faced, she continued, “Sidney has helped you every single time you asked, even if it was against his wishes. And I have been sidelined for this town my whole life! Sanditon was your first wife, and the one you preferred, but I didn’t know what I was getting into when I married you. Do you expect me to care about it more than my family? My children?” 

Arthur and Diana exchanged extremely worried glances and Sidney felt a pang of alarm himself. He had long known of Mary’s vexation with Tom, but had always banked on her infinite patience while dealing with his brother’s wild bouts of enthusiasm. But things seemed to be worse than he had imagined. Worse than Tom could have guessed when he had been afraid he had lost her trust. 

Sidney looked at Charlotte and noted that she didn’t seem surprised at all at Mary’s unexpected and candid revelations. Somehow Charlotte had known. But then, she had always known, had she not? She had accurately identified Tom’s character right at the very beginning when she spoke of how he neglected his family’s happiness in his passionate devotion to Sanditon. And now, his and Mary’s marriage seemed to be on shaky ground. He wondered if his brother realised the true cost of his obsession with Sanditon.

Regardless, it was time to bring this ridiculous discussion to an end.

“Tom,” Sidney said firmly. “A meeting has been arranged at Babington’s house with him and Lady Susan. Between us, the matter of the debt will be settled. You wanted us to be more involved in the future of Sanditon, and now we will be. And you will have to live with whatever decision is taken because it will be one that best suits everybody, not just you.” He paused to let the message sink in. “None of us here are available to you to sacrifice for your needs as you please.” 

There was a finality to his tone that signalled the conversation was over. 

“We leave for Babington’s place in half an hour. That should give you enough time to freshen up,” he added, addressing Arthur and Diana as well. 

They nodded meekly. 

Everyone stood up to leave. No one paid any more heed to Tom, who was left standing near the fireplace, Mary and Sidney’s words ringing in his ears.

**~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~**

Sidney fell into step with Arthur as they all filed towards the door. “You did well, Arthur, in warning me of your arrival,” He said to his younger brother as they moved into the corridor. “And your letters. And for keeping an eye on Georgiana as well. Thank you.”

Arthur nodded, smiling slightly. He had never felt useful in his life before, had never needed to be useful to anyone. He found he quite liked it. But he still felt a little guilty that he had not done much more to help Sidney. Before today, he had not known nor could he have imagined the extent of the unrealistic expectations Tom seemed to have from Sidney. Part of him felt thankful he had been spared, for he would certainly not have had the courage or the fortitude to endure Tom’s relentless crusade as Sidney had done. 

“Sidney… I would have offered to marry Mrs. Campion myself…” When Arthur saw his brother’s eyes widen in surprise and disbelief, he hastened to add: “It should not matter to her which brother she was marrying if she truly only wanted to help save the family. People have married for far less nobler reasons. But it’s not me she wants to possess. And apart from marriage not being my style of things at all — I wouldn't have the faintest idea how to go about it! — I’d rather be alone and lonely than be trapped in a marriage with that viper!”

Sidney gaped at his brother. This was possibly the most Arthur had ever spoken to him about a matter other than food or some ailment. He found his voice. “Thank you, Arthur. I understand how you feel. But as I said before, none of us needs to be sacrificed at the altar of Tom’s ambitions. We’ll find a way.”

“I’m glad you did not give up on Miss Heywood. And especially glad that you did not give up on yourself.” He nudged his brother with a teasing grin. “You are quite besotted with her.”

Sidney couldn’t help the grin that lit up his face. “I am.”

“I’m truly very happy for both of you. I adore Charlotte and could not be more delighted to have her for a sister.” Arthur turned serious again. “Sidney, I would like to help. With Sanditon, with whatever we decide to do. Whatever I can do to assist or support you, you must tell me.”

Sidney nodded. “Let’s see what happens at the meeting, brother. If you really want to be a part of it, I promise I’ll find a way.”

Charlotte and Mary had left the parlour ahead of the brothers, Diana having already bustled off to her room. The two women had stopped further down the corridor. 

“Charlotte,” Mary began, her voice heavy with guilt. “I am so deeply sorr–”

“No.” Charlotte cut her off. “You have nothing to apologise for.” Her tone was fierce. “ _Nothing_. And when I leave for Willingden, you and the children are coming with me.”

Mary stared at her astonished even as tears filled her eyes. “But Tom said such terrible things to you… You would still…?” 

“Of course!” She squeezed her friend’s hand. “I cannot even begin to imagine what you are going through. But I will offer support where I can.”

“But your parents–”

“Will understand perfectly,” Charlotte said firmly. 

Mary gripped her hand back, trying to convey her deep and heartfelt gratitude. A single tear ran down her cheek but she valiantly held the rest of them at bay. She wanted to weep, but she could not afford the luxury of a good cry as yet. She must be strong for a little while longer, for herself, her children, and her family.

Sidney found the two women thus in the corridor. Mary looked fragile and overburdened and teary-eyed. In contrast, Charlotte with her defiant chin simultaneously looked like a general ready to lead an army into battle and like a lioness protecting her cubs as she stood beside Mary.

Sidney eyed her. He wanted to apologise for his brother’s unforgivably insulting behaviour. But from the glint in her eye, he realised any such gestures would be unwelcome at this time. Charlotte was angry and hurt, rightfully so, and she had to be allowed to work her way through it at her own pace. 

So, he settled for nodding at the two women, trying to convey his reassurance, and allowed himself just a squeeze of Charlotte’s fingers as he passed them. He was rewarded with a quick tightening of her fingers around his.

And so, half an hour later found the Parkers and Charlotte settled in two carriages that conveyed them to Babington House on Park Lane.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Leave a review, let me know what you think! :)
> 
> And wherever you are, I hope you and your family and friends are doing alright in these strange and crazy times. Take care, stay safe, and be well, everyone!


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